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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29649375">sanctuary</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/curtailed/pseuds/curtailed'>curtailed</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Ancient Egyptian Religion, 엔네아드 ENNEAD (Webcomic)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ancient History, Drunken Confessions, Falling In Love, Flashbacks, Guilt, Headcanon, Horus having terrible taste tbh, Introspection, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, Past Rape/Non-con, Pining, Spoilers up to chapter 60, Unhealthy Relationships, Wet Dream</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 21:16:01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>21,656</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29649375</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/curtailed/pseuds/curtailed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The answer was so simple to say out loud. On a normal, sober day Horus would rather cut out his own tongue than utter it--but the wine had sunk deep and mellow into his stomach, and he felt immortal.</p><p>***</p><p>A 5+1 piece. The aftermath of the contests, and what it entails for the new king.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Horus/Set</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>85</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>sanctuary</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>OK, so this is apparently the longest one-shot I've written. Huh.</p><p>At the time of writing this, the English version of ENNEAD was at Chapter 55, and it currently is at 60-61. Obviously I'm missing a bunch of information (I'm aware the Korean RAWs are many chapters ahead but I am unable to read them), but from what I'm kiiiinda getting is that Horus will win the 3rd round, become king, and Seth...goes to Duat or out of Egypt. I dunno. I may be totally wrong. Here, I assume that Seth leaves Egypt and comes back every now and then.</p><p>This is less of ENNEAD lore and more of its characters and relationships plugged into a bunch of ancient Egypt history and myth. Each section's numbering is alternate hieroglyphs and coptic script (which actually didn't exist at the Old Kingdom/Osiris myth timeline.) This is not meant to be an interpration of Egyptian religion and myth, and it's more of ENNEAD being transferred to a parallel setting.</p><p>Update: edited some tags, changed the summary to be more succinct, updated references. If you enjoyed the piece, feel free to drop a kudos/comment!</p>
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</table><p>ⲟⲩⲁ</p><p>The ascension feast lasted for fifty days. It was mostly a slow process, a murmur of gods slipping in and out of the banquet room, but the seats were never completely empty and the table never cleared. By day eight Hathor had stopped trying to persuade Horus to sit at the throne, and by day twenty-two he didn't show up to the room at all.</p><p>He still kept his old bedroom. From this view he could see the Nile, calm and smooth as glass, and even when the sun set he could see the golden-red sands of the desert shift about as well. By day thirty-two his eyes rarely left the sand. He imagined flying out, landing among endless barren land, letting the grains slip past his fingers. Small boats bobbed at the shores, little ripples of white caressing the hard edge of wooden docks.</p><p>By day fifty there was only a plate of dates and wilted lettuce on the tabletop. No other dish remained; the single plate had been placed before the throne, the heat slowly coaxing the food into a puddle of its own juices. Horus suspected that his mother had purposely left it there; a reminder to eat. A reminder to rule. He carried the plate back to his room.</p><p>There, on the balcony's low wall, his uncle sat.</p><p>He didn't even have time to reach for his sword. Seth glanced over, sand already wrapping around his head and forming into his headdress, but the moon had briefly shone on the long waves of red hair. Then the khopesh glistered, a long black lethality extending into empty air, and it was like he had never moved at all.</p><p>"Didn't eat much, did you?"</p><p>"You were watching me."</p><p>"It was hard not to. You're the ruler, after all." Still, Seth didn't get up from his perch--one knee drawn to his chest, the other hanging off the edge. Horus had to fight down the stupid urge to tell him to move away. "Fifty days of revelry, food...all of Egypt loved it. The Nile's never been in better shape."</p><p>Horus still held the plate. The room was warm, warmer than usual, and he wanted to--</p><p>"Are you here to kill me, uncle?"</p><p>"Am I here to kill you?" Seth mocked, even as the khopesh <em>flashed</em> in a dark streak. It flew an inch from Horus' head, embedding solidly into the wall behind him. "What do you think, bird brain? In the middle of the palace, with barely any sand, and your mother three doors down. No," he continued, flicking his hand, and the khopesh dissolved into grains. "I might as well spell out your name in the desert if I did that."</p><p>"Would they try to kill you if you did?"</p><p>"They'd <em>try</em>, sure." Somehow, even in the darkness, Horus could tell that his uncle had rolled his eyes. "Come over here."</p><p>His feet didn't hesitate to obey. One moment he stood in the sweltering room, watching the wind shift along the walls--the next moment he was out on the balcony as well, the night air cool and dry as it settled over his skin. He was still holding the plate. Seth, without glancing over, snatched it from his hands.</p><p>"Dates? <em>Lettuce? </em>And I thought you were supposed to be pharaoh."</p><p>Horus decided against sitting on the wall. Seth <em>had</em> said he wouldn't try anything lethal, at least for tonight, but there was a non-zero chance that he would simply swat his nephew off the wall and laugh as he'd plummet straight into the ground. His new wings would reform soon enough, but for now he was as grounded as any other god. Or demigod, rather.</p><p>Instead, he inched away from the edge, standing two cubits from his uncle. "That was the only food remaining."</p><p>Seth held up a date for inspection. At this distance, Horus could see the glimmer of red irises, an odd contrast to the serenity of the moon. "It's very ripe, at least. Whoever picked it had a good touch."</p><p>"All of the harvest was ripe. Most of the crops received a blessing from my f--"</p><p>From the sudden, sharp jerk of Seth's head, Horus wished he could swallow his own tongue. He hadn't--he hadn't meant to bring up <em>him</em> at all, not in any capacity, and yet--the ground swam under him, unsteady, and from the corner of his eye he saw his uncle stand.</p><p>"Of course they did," Seth muttered. If Horus didn't know better, his uncle's voice would almost sound kind. Fingers carefully set the plate down, the dark red and greyish water swirling into an unsavoury puddle. "How did it feel?"</p><p>"Uncle--"</p><p>"How many people came up to you like this?" A calloused hand clasped Horus' shoulder, and he only had time to bite back a noise of pain as the fingers tightened. "Finally took your rightful place as your <em>father's</em> heir. A triumph, wasn't it?"</p><p>Seth tilted his head, his mouth brushing so <em>close</em> to Horus' ear. The heat felt like a soft rain.</p><p>"And you told me," he whispered, contempt dripping from his voice, "that you didn't want the throne."</p><p>"I didn't," Horus said hoarsely.</p><p>"So why did you take it? For the good of the people?" At that, Seth laughed, so softly, and Horus shifted to keep the warmth from seeping deep into his stomach. There had been a moment where he felt his uncle's chest brush his shoulder, pale skin against dark brown, and his hands--trembled. Staying still. Seth was still there, fingers gripping; any harder and skin would break. </p><p>"I..."</p><p>"Noble of you, for sure." The fingers squeezed, and Horus felt like his heart had leapt into his mouth. His tongue felt dry, drier than the sands Seth had reigned over, and the voice was low and cold in his ear. He wanted to reach out and touch him back. "First Osiris, the golden son of the gods--then his noblest son, ready to set right what's wrong. It's hilarious, don't you think?"</p><p>"I know what my father did to you," Horus said, in a rush. </p><p>His uncle stilled.</p><p>It was the only warning Horus received before he was <em>thrown</em> across the balcony, skidding hard across the ground. A few more cubits and he would have toppled straight over the edge. He tried to scramble up, grit and dust coating his palms, but the cold edge of the khopesh pressed against his throat.</p><p>
  <em>I'm not a god. I can die here.</em>
</p><p>"You <em>bastard,</em>" Seth snarled, and there was nothing affable or calm in his voice anymore. It was a blistering, shaking rage, one that made Horus freeze, with the high edge of panic. The blade pressed deeper. "How the <em>hell</em> did you know? How long have you known about it?!"</p><p>"I--"</p><p>"Your mother told you about it, didn't she?" There was no time to answer, not when Seth pressed his foot onto Horus' stomach. The pain flared up in a sharp spike, and Horus tried to shove him off. His uncle might as well had been carved from stone. "I knew I should've fucking killed her when I had the chance. I should have cut out her tongue--"</p><p>"She didn't--"</p><p>He should have seen the backhand coming. The force of it turned his head, and for a moment Horus could only stare blankly at the glyphs on the low wall, bas reliefs outlined in a faint spray of silver. His ears rung from the impact. When he reached up to touch his face, the khopesh dug in, warningly, and he lowered his hands.</p><p>"That night, then," Seth said, "you wanted to--what? Reenact? Take back what your father already took?" The grip on the khopesh shook, and Horus flinched at the cold sting of pain in his neck. "You sick, <em>deluded</em> son of a whore. I should rip out your throat right now."</p><p>"...don't."</p><p>"Why the hell not? I tore your fucking father to pieces. Why shouldn't I do the same to you?"</p><p>It was impulse that guided Horus. He thought of volatile, shifting sands, of a green mirror rusted and empty, of the slow waves of the Nile. "Because," he croaked, feeling his throat bob under the weight of the blade, "like you said, you didn't come here to kill me."</p><p>"Confident now, are we?"</p><p>"You came here to pay fealty." Horus swallowed, and felt a trickle of blood creep down his neck. Any deeper and the blade would cut straight into his jugular. "I'm the only one besides my father that can--"</p><p>Seth froze, staring down at him with wide, wide eyes.</p><p>"Make you mortal," Horus rasped, his heart pounding hard against his ribcage. "That way, he'll never get you in Duat."</p><p>This time he saw the hit coming, and he could only close his eyes as the fist slammed right into his face. White flashed behind his eyelids, the pain feeling like his skull had cracked, warm and cool air rushing dizzily through his nose. </p><p>Consciousness came back in ebbs and flows. Horus finally stumbled to his feet, head still ringing from the impact, to find only an empty balcony. There was no trace that his uncle had been here at all.</p><p>Except--</p><p>The plate had remained untouched.</p><p>The lettuce, he avoided, each leaflet utterly drenched in water, but he slowly bit into a single date to block out the dull throbbing in his head. It tasted terrible.</p><p>.</p><p>.</p><p>.</p>
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</table><p>ⲥⲛⲁⲩ</p><p>A chill had dropped over Heliopolis, the quick, brutal freeze after a desert storm, and Horus had spent almost an hour drying off his wings.</p><p>The transition to a god was gradual, a creep among his limbs and head, but already he could feel minute changes. He could fly higher and longer, for one. The harvest was always paramount, especially as the river grew more turbulent, and maybe he didn't have the extent of his mother or--he winced--his <em>father's</em> powers, but he could still offer what little he had. A favourable wind to skim over the lines of barley; a quick repair of the canals. He always disguised himself as a human, and--he'd never admit it to his mother--but the life down here felt more familiar. Wandering along crowds and crowds of people, letting the noise and chaos settle into his bones. Manually planting seeds, hauling plows, painting trinkets--and always, keeping an eye on the sun. </p><p>He wondered how much Ra knew. Ra was curious about him--much more curious than one should have been--but she never drew near, always sitting in the distance. Watching. Observing. The sun shone against his back as he tended a child's hand, feeling the weight of small bones in his own fingers. The warm glow of braziers lit up mudbrick homes, faience wares crowding the windowsills; the well was crowded, per usual, and near a cluster of empty homes two old men played a somber game of senet. Further in the distance, a small sandstone temple loomed, throwing a dark shadow across stony ground. The symbol of crook and flail was etched all over the columns.</p><p>He had peeked inside--once--and saw the stones burning, the vague shadows of his father's atef rising from the flames. If he had looked longer, he wondered if he would see Osiris himself, bearing an expression as calm and placid as the eye of a storm.</p><p>By sunfall, Horus returned home.</p><p><em>Home.</em> It was his home now, by all technicalities; the clouds had darkened as he flew back to the palace, and there was only a split-second of chilled air before rain poured down. Cold, dripping streams ran down his body. If he was still human, he would have dropped to the sands below, his muscles numb with cold, but he wasn't--he never was--and so he flew onward, gritting his teeth against the surge of water. Villages flickered under him, little spots of light strewn alongside the Nile. Even through the rain, the light swelled as he neared the city. The palace rose before him, invisible to all but their residents.</p><p>"You're all soaking," Isis had snapped as he descended onto the first landing. "I only told you to oversee the nomes near Memphis, not..." she clicked her tongue at the amount of water dripping from his skin. "Not the whole lower Nile!"</p><p>"I only went to Abydos, mother."</p><p>Isis sighed softly. "Your father was like this as well. In our first years of marriage, he'd take me along to all these places along the Nile--" she broke off, her face suddenly drawn. </p><p>
  <em>Your mother told you about it, didn't she?</em>
</p><p>"It's--" <em>not alright,</em> "--alright, mother," he said as gently as he could. In the torchlight he could see her kohl smudged slightly, the way a weariness had crept into her face. She had been worried. "I--"</p><p>
  <em>I know about it.</em>
</p><p>"I won't go so far next time."</p><p>Her mother gave him a small smile. "You don't have to reassure me, Horus. When you become a god, you'll be able to visit all of Egypt." With that, she drifted off to the corridors, the beads on her kalasiris clinking together mutedly. The light seemed to follow her, dwindling to a soft gold, before fading altogether.</p><p>He sat alone in a private room to dry his wings. It was one of Maat's old rooms, judging by the number of half-scrawled scrolls that lay scattered about the ground, with stumpy pots of dried ink stacked on the table. Water sluiced onto the ground, settling into a thin layer of dust. It was completely dark now, save for a lone torch simmering in the corridor outside. When he finished drying off, he headed out, plucking the torch from its holder, letting its soft light flicker across the walls.</p><p>It was at the third landing that he paused, the flame continuing to flicker back and forth. A sudden motion, or maybe his wings still damp, but he--he <em>felt </em>it. A change in the air. A shift in the dust. The glyphs glinted from the wall, miniscule cracks spreading across brick. </p><p>"Uncle," Horus greeted quietly, not exactly daring to breathe.</p><p>The air shifted again. Sand massed on the ground, smoothly forming into a humanoid shape, and Horus had to force his gaze to his feet before he did anything idiotic. Even now, the sight of seeing his uncle materialize from nothing never failed to take his breath away. Seth looked...he looked...</p><p><em>Exactly how a god should look</em>.</p><p>"Guilty," Seth commented, showing no hint of the antagonism before. He mockingly bent to inspect one of the doors. "I was looking for your room, you know. Did you switch?"</p><p>Seth knew exactly where his room was. "No, uncle." When Seth didn't immediately answer, Horus fumbled for an explanation, trying to ignore the flush of embarrassment. "I was away for some time."</p><p>"Oh, really? Wow. I couldn't have guessed."</p><p>He moved to another door. "What about this one? You won't mind if I go in, won't you?" His grin widened. "Or maybe it's your mother's. Just imagine her expression when she sees me." He laughed softly to himself, his hand shifting on the lock--</p><p>"That's Nephthys' room," Horus mumbled, watching his uncle move as if through a soft haze. He felt like he was sinking into a bottomless sea, warmth and salt embracing him like a lover. "She's resting in there."</p><p>Seth stared at him in a rare moment of speechlessness.</p><p>Horus couldn't keep his gaze. Unconsciously, his wings shifted on his back, trying to shield as much of his torso as it could without conspicuity. "She's...still trying to get used to..." he made a vague gesture at the walls. Seth continued staring at him, like he had grown a second head. "She hasn't been out for a long time."</p><p>Silence stretched over them. Slowly, as if it cost him physical pain, his uncle withdrew his hand from the lock, staring at the surface like it was an empty, gaping nightmare.</p><p>His hand trembled slightly. </p><p>"Well--" Seth's voice <em>cracked,</em> and the sound hung in the air, quiet and undeterred. He cleared his throat. "<em>Well.</em>"</p><p>To his credit, his voice had steadied. Horus stood there, feeling like he lowered himself into a dark, vacant cave--he couldn't see any possible dangers, yet the hairs on his neck rose. If a fight erupted here, he would lose quickly, with the narrowed spaces and his wings still damp. </p><p>Then Seth slumped--a barely noticeable movement--and the tension in the air leaked. The headdress shadowed most of his face, but Horus saw his mouth tighten, as if he was in pain.</p><p>"Let's not bother her, then!" A strong arm wrapped around Horus' shoulders. Even a child could see through Seth's false cheer, and in the proximity, Horus couldn't help but notice how his uncle had leaned on him--just for a moment--as if each of his bones had turned into sand. It made him feel oddly warm. Seth moved, and Horus was forced to walk along. "Since you're now traipsing all over Egypt, why don't you tell me what you've been up to?"</p><p>"Nothing in particular."</p><p>"Really? No flying among the masses? No show of your power?"</p><p>"I didn't want to draw attention." Horus shifted, trying to pry his uncle's arm off him. It didn't budge. Some small part of him relaxed at the touch, at how firm the grip was, like it would never let him fall. "I mostly helped with the villages."</p><p>"That's so <em>nice</em> of you." Horus only had time to suck in a breath before Seth had grabbed his face, squeezing his cheeks before withdrawing. The single motion made heat rush to his face. They still walked down the hall, and his uncle still hadn't pulled away. The torchlight flickered, the shadows stretching and elongating like they were alive. </p><p>"Uncle," he said slowly, feeling his feet stop. They were at his bedroom. "Why are you here?"</p><p>Seth's grin flickered.</p><p>"Is there a law against it?"</p><p><em>Probably.</em> "You wanted nothing to do with me last time, so why did you come back?"</p><p>Seth finally--<em>finally</em>--let him go, hand briefly lingering on his shoulder. Horus resisted the urge to hold his hand, to keep it where it was. "I thought Isis would have smacked egoism out of you by now. I <em>lived</em> here," and for a moment Horus could almost see it, how it all was before the fateful day Sekhmet had whispered into Seth's ear, "longer than you've been alive. You have nothing to do with my choice."</p><p>The words stung. "But why are you <em>here?</em>"</p><p>Seth laughed bitterly at that. "Well, you're probably the only one that won't attack me on sight. What good is family for, huh?" He leaned against Horus' bedroom door, chuckling to himself. "This is yours. I can smell your scent from it."</p><p>Horus couldn't exactly say that he had a vivid imagination, but somehow there was always an exception when it came to his uncle's words. He clenched his hands, unclenched them, forcing himself to relax. It felt like he would mess up any moment; one wrong word, one wrong breath, and his uncle would soar far away and never return. <em>Let him go,</em> a voice said in his head, a voice that sounded suspiciously like his mother's. <em>You know what he is, my son.</em></p><p>He pushed open the door. Without looking back, he could feel his uncle following him in, and his throat felt dry.</p><p>
  <em>Water. I just need some water.</em>
</p><p>He set the torch down into a sconce and poured a cup of water for himself, and on a last-minute impulse, poured another one out for Seth. Seth had seated himself on the open ledge, the dark expanse of the night radiating behind him like a devouring mouth, ravenous and desperate. Or maybe that was just Horus' own thoughts. He shook it off, making sure to stand at a careful distance from his uncle.</p><p>Seth had rummaged around in a vase and pulled out a thick scroll. "You did all of this planning yourself?"</p><p>"A king should always take things into his own hands." His mother had told him that his father had often said it, but it was likely not a wise idea to bring up Osiris in any shape or form. The last time he had done so had resulted in a blade at his throat. "I can't interfere directly with the matters of humans, so I have to ask several smaller deities to help them plan."</p><p>"Plan what?"</p><p>Horus winced internally. "There's...an army heading from the east. Egypt has need of defenders." And it wouldn't normally be a problem, he thought, if Egypt had its residential god of war.</p><p>One that was now slumped on the sill, diminished in power, one that could kill him as easily as breaking a child's bone, but not one that dominated the sands anymore. One day Horus would be more powerful than him, and the realisation was like a small jolt through his veins.</p><p>"Preparations for war."</p><p>Horus nodded.</p><p>Seth looked at him, the headdress slightly skewed on his head. "You can't just fly over to the other army and blow them away?"</p><p>"I said--"</p><p>"I <em>know</em> what you said. I'm just wondering why you care." Seth shrugged, raising a hand. Sand grains wrapped around the other cup, tugging it towards his outstretched hand, rocking slightly back and forth. Droplets scattered across the floor. "You already admitted to doing dirty village work, anyhow. What's the difference?"</p><p>"I--" Horus stared at the water sloshing around in his cup. In the dim glow of the torch, the water appeared grey, staining the sides. "It's not dirty," he managed. Before Seth could interrupt--and Horus knew he would, judging by how his shoulders tensed with silent mirth--he continued. "I had to do it in secret."</p><p>"So you're already breaking rules? Already setting a fine example as a pharaoh."</p><p>"You did it too." Horus tasted his water, and found it flat. He didn't know what else to say. "You covered the land with the blood and bodies of mortals. No one tried to stop you."</p><p>When he glanced up again, his uncle was staring resolutely at the cup.</p><p>"Whose cup is this?"</p><p>Horus frowned. "I don't--"</p><p>"That's why I'm not ruler of Egypt," Seth spoke over him, voice lacking any humour. The cup question had melted away. "Think of me as your lowest bar, if you want. Congratulations, you're not doing what I did. That's--" he inspected the cup intensely, as if he was expecting for it to come alive. "--not something worth celebrating over."</p><p>Horus closed his eyes, trying to focus his thoughts. The fact that his uncle hadn't skewered him with sand--or tried to, or even threatened to--along with a general sense of--<em>regret? wistfulness?</em>--not to mention how much he had leaned on him, movements ever so slightly unbalanced--</p><p>"You're inebriated, uncle."</p><p>Seth's laughter was as sharp and sudden as a squall. "What finally gave that away? Was it the..." he rubbed at his mouth with the back of his hand, and then stared at his fingers in confusion. "...the fact that you're still alive?"</p><p>"Maybe."</p><p>"Like I said before, it's not worth the risk." <em>And your promise</em> was a phrase left unspoken, but it hung in the air like the crack of a whip. The light fell softly, like it lost power mere inches from the wall. Horus wanted to reach out. He wanted to draw Seth in, to let him feel the steady pulse of heart and warmth, to...</p><p>"This is Osiris' cup," Seth said, his voice shaking. "I thought I recognised the design."</p><p>Horus froze. "I didn't know--"</p><p>The cup collided with a column, shattering into nine jagged pieces. Water smeared in a dark stain over the ground, and in the light it looked almost like blood.</p><p>It only took seconds for Horus to clean up the mess. By then his uncle was long gone, the window open and inviting.</p><p>.</p><p>.</p><p>.</p><p>𒄩𒂔𒌈</p><p>ϣⲟⲙⲛ̄ⲧ</p><p>He first dreamed of Seth when he was eight.</p><p>Back then it had been innocuous. Horus imagined himself as a child, young, fearful, wandering listlessly down featureless hallways. Always ahead was a shifting awareness, like a giant slowly awakening, all sonorous motions and dulled consciousness. He called for his mother then, his voice high and trembling from fear, his fingers only grasping onto dust. <em>Mother,</em> he'd call out, but nothing answered him. </p><p>A hand guided him. As the years passed, the shadows receded so slowly, a trickle compared to the swell of the river. Golden bracelet. Pale skin. Red, red hair, the head unadorned. Seth guided him out of the void, and the red in his eyes felt like the embers of a hearth. Maybe they would dull, or even flicker, but they would never fade out. A face, thin and sharp and beautiful. He had seen that face less times than the fingers on his hand, always at a distance, yet it had mesmerised him at first sight. If all of Egypt was a room, then his uncle was a beacon, glowing as brilliantly as the setting sun.</p><p>Horus was lonely. It was a concept that had formed subtly, like a weed taking root, but he was--lonely. He had only his mother, and beyond the reaches of his mother's allies he had no one. Friends couldn't be made, not while he was so quiet and they were so <em>ephemeral. </em>He would live forever one day, and they would be nothing more than dust and bones.</p><p>"We can't stay long here," Isis had said on the day they had reached Ombos. A cluster of small mudbrick dwellings greeted them from the sand, a plot of half-dried field bordering the distant bank of the Nile. "This used to be one of your uncle's most prominent towns."</p><p>"...it doesn't look--"</p><p>"Shh! Hush." Isis took his hand, even though he was seven at the point. He could walk around by himself. "Most of the people here have turned their backs on him. As they should."</p><p>His mother's rules were simple: he was to sit at their dwelling, to not move or greet strangers, while she went into town--or what remained of it--to gather something valuable. If he had to talk, he was to use their fabricated names. "Your uncle doesn't know you exist," she whispered, hair long and matted and covered in grime. "Give him no reason to."</p><p>The sun crawled slowly. He amused himself by sifting the particles of dust on the window, first by blowing, then by trying to move them around via the air. His mother didn't know about that particular ability yet, and for some reason he wanted to keep that detail to himself. Maybe he would tell her later. Maybe...</p><p>Another hour. He drank a handful of water, using the rest in the jar to wash his face and neck. His mother still hadn't returned. Maybe he could...he fidgeted, wondering how furious Isis would get. She would understand, wouldn't she? It would be quick. He wouldn't be in any danger.</p><p>Another hour. Horus smoothed out the folds in his shendyt, and on a second thought, put on his sandals as well. If he was to worry his mother, at least the absence of sandals would clue her in that he had left the house of his own free will. Outside, a low breeze swept over his body, minutely cooling him from the heat of the dwelling, and he moved quickly to avoid sand accumulating on his heels. </p><p>He had seen the temple when they entered town, even as his mother had gently nudged him onto another path. Red sandstone, empty and haunting, and now he drew closer, unable to tear his gaze away from the columns. One of them was jagged and sawed in half, like someone had cut right through it. The other had a single glyph and name etched into its stone:</p>
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</table><p>(<em>sutekh)</em></p><p>Even in the smudged drawing, he'd recognise his uncle's headdress from anywhere. </p><p>There were no priests inside. No worshippers, no stray pedestrians, no vagrants huddling in the corners. Only the crumbled remains of a statue, a shrine cleaved in half, bas reliefs on the wall that had evened out over time and wear. The stone was thick enough to block out most of the sunlight, as if the temple was Horus' own private corner, hidden away from the eye of the sun god. He trailed a hand over the stone, marvelling.</p><p>
  <em>They have turned their backs on them.</em>
</p><p>He walked about the ruins of his uncle's temple. He had been to several of his father's before, and even to his mother's (although Isis shied away), and others as well, but here...it was a strange sort of silence, like he was falling deep into the river. Drifting. Untouched by sound or senses, only knowing that there was nothing to touch, nothing to admire, and yet--</p><p>
  <em>It's similar to my dream.</em>
</p><p>Something sharp pricked at his ankle. Instinctively Horus lashed out his foot, hitting empty air, but in the dim glint of light he saw it--a small red snake had bitten his foot, tail writhing as it struggled to remain attached to his skin. He bent down and pried its mouth open, setting it back on the ground. The bite looked painful, but it was only a faint red swelling. It was nothing to worry about.</p><p>The snake slithered away, disappearing into the shadows, and on a strange whim Horus decided to follow it. Column after column floated by, chapels branching off into enclosed, shadowed spaces. The hall widened slightly, reaching a round room. The snake had vanished.</p><p>A table. There was only a table, and on it--somehow miraculously undamaged--were small votive statues barely larger than his hand. Both men and women stood on the tabletop, eyes of black stone staring back at him, shendyts and sheath dresses incised and roughly hewn. The offerings of the common people, Horus realised, a chill rising along his spine.</p><p>
  <em>Uncle...</em>
</p><p>There was still copious amounts of stone among the rubble. He sat down on the ground, checking it for any stray snakes or scorpions, and slowly began to carve. He couldn't describe the feeling that swelled in him--the sudden crushing sense of hopelessness, like he was drowning for eternity. A raw pain of agony, of agonizing guilt and despairing sorrow, like he would never see the sky again. His hands shook, a slight redness tinging his vision, and--and--</p><p>
  <em>Mother. Mother is looking for me.</em>
</p><p>He leapt up, trying his best to place his finished product on the table. It resembled more of a lump than anything concrete, scarred and nicked by accidental scratches of stone, but he had tried his best. If one looked at a proper angle, it might even look like a falcon.</p><p>"Heru!" his mother sobbed, out in the main square, and he could hear her voice from the temple's steps as he ran outside. His head swam slightly; he must have overheated in the temple. "My son Heru--have you seen him? He is this tall, but I don't know what he--" Isis' voice cracked, and Horus rushed to her. </p><p>"Mother!"</p><p>Isis whirled around, eyes shining. "<em>Heru!</em>"</p><p>Horus stumbled into her arms as the crowd around them dispersed. "My son," she whispered, and he could feel her tears staining his hair. "I thought--I thought you were in <em>danger,</em> I thought you were dead--" she drew back, tears running down her face. "I told you to stay put! Where did you go?"</p><p>"Mother, I'm--" he stumbled again, black spots dancing in and out of his vision. Somehow, he couldn't stand straight. "I was only trying to--I didn't mean to..."</p><p>Or he tried to say it, at least, even as pain flared up his leg. He only glimpsed his ankle, now bleeding and throbbing from the snake bite, swollen as a small fruit. </p><p><em>Oh,</em> he thought, and the ground came up to meet him.</p><p>.</p><p>.</p><p>.</p><p>"A viper," his mother gritted out, drawing out the last of the venom from his foot.</p><p>He had laid on the straw pallet for almost the entire night, unable to move or speak without a sharp flaring up at every attempt. Sometimes, when he didn't pay attention to it, the pain <em>burned</em>--in fits and gasps, it felt like he was being dipped slowly into a flame. Dark blurs swarmed in his sight, and he could only stare at the ceiling, tears trickling down his temples and onto the straw. Isis had placed a small bowl at his lips, tilting water over his swollen, parched tongue.</p><p>
  <em>Loneliness. Pain. Agony.</em>
</p><p>By dawn, the pain began to recede. Horus opened his eyes to see his mother sitting by the sill, head in her hands, her frame stooped by exhaustion. Guilt crept into his heart.</p><p>"Mother?"</p><p>Isis had stared at him blankly, and in the dimness he could see how wide her eyes were, how much her mouth tightened into a thin, trembling line. She had feared he would die.</p><p>Now, she wrapped up his foot, tying the strip of linen with a tad more force than necessary. "A carpet viper, if I had to guess. They're common around the desert. Any more of the venom--" she finished tying the knot, "--and a normal person would have perished."</p><p>"But--" Horus' voice caught in his throat. "I thought I wasn't normal."</p><p>"Which is why I only had to use one spell." Isis stood, and it was only by the slight shaking of her hands that Horus realised how furious she was.</p><p>The slap stung more out of surprise than pain, and he thought he could feel his mother's hand branded on his cheek.</p><p>"What were you <em>THINKING?!"</em></p><p>"Mother..."</p><p>"I told you not to leave the place. I told you not to even step foot outside. There was enough food and water to sustain you." Isis shot a glare at him, and he flinched. "And one of the locals told me you <em>went </em>to the temple<em>.</em> What, in Ra's name, were you <em>trying to do</em>?"</p><p>"I...I was restless," Horus mumbled, bowing his head from shame. "There wasn't anyone to talk to. And I didn't--" Unbidden, tears pricked at the corner of his eyes. "I wanted..."</p><p>He thought of the feeling he had felt back in the temple. It had been so <em>real</em> at the moment, like someone had been sitting right besides him, burdened by the same weight of grief. A fellow companion, alone and lost and trapped by the stone, by the sands, and he thought it would almost be--</p><p>"...I'm sorry, mother," Horus said softly.</p><p>Warm hands gently touched his face. A moment later Isis rested her forehead against his, planting a soft kiss on his brow, smoothing the short dark hairs on his head.</p><p>"I was worried," she whispered. "If I had to use more of my power, it would have drawn your uncle's attention. I was worried he would find you."</p><p>He thought of the melancholy in the temple, the votive statues staring into emptiness. A single falcon placed on the table.</p><p>
  <em>I wouldn't have minded that.</em>
</p><p>"I'm sorry," he repeated, staring down at his lap. "I won't do it again."</p><p>His mother's smile was tremulous, and he felt guilty all over again.</p><p>.</p><p>.</p><p>.</p><p>𒁉𒁕𒌑</p><p>ϥⲧⲟⲟⲩ</p><p>It started off with embraces. He'd hug his uncle, slide his hands into his hair, awed at the scarlet ribbons that dripped down his palms. He had only seen Seth from a distance, but they would be about the same height. Maybe he'd be even taller--Isis had said Osiris was the tallest of the siblings (along with other sets of adjectives that made him feel slightly uncomfortable)--and by his age of manhood, he stood over most of the crowds that he moved through. He could fight, too; his arms were sturdy and strong from practicing the sword, and he was able to test his manipulation of the air in short, quick bursts. </p><p>He imagined his uncle knew all of this already. At the adolescence years, the emotion had peaked and ebbed like a fire in his chest. He couldn't stop even if he tried. It drew him in, back and back again, and it was to the dream of Seth kissing him, holding his shoulders, that he woke up with the epiphany.</p><p><em>He killed your father,</em> a voice whispered in him. But Horus couldn't stop now, not while the vestiges of the dream burned behind his eyelids--Seth pinning him down, mouth moving downwards to his right nipple--and his fingers shook as he reached under the thin bedsheet. Warmth coiled low and deep in his stomach as he stroked himself, slowly, increasing in speed, and--</p><p>Seth glanced up in his mind's eye, face slightly flushed, and smiled.</p><p>It was the smile that pushed him over. His body shook from the orgasm, as if every bone and muscle turned into liquid in his body, and he bit down on his lip to prevent a soft moan from slipping out. He slumped back on the pallet, sweat coating his skin and brow like a thin sheen of oil, and felt like he was drifting in a warm pool of emptiness. The glow burned pleasurably in his abdomen, and the first time in a while, he let himself relax, his hand absentmindedly brushing along his cock as he thought of Seth's hair in his hands.</p><p>"Horus?" Isis' voice floated from the room next door. </p><p>His mother's voice felt like a hammer had crashed into his skull. Reality surged down on him all at once, as if he had plunged headfirst into an icy cataract.</p><p>His <em>mother.</em> His father. His uncle had--he had <em>killed</em> Osiris, for Ra's sake, had <em>imprisoned</em> Isis, and yet Horus had--</p><p>His stomach clenched, guts twisting, even as Horus pushed himself upright. <em>He killed your father,</em> the voice kept murmuring, but another voice flared up, one small yet sharp. <em>You don't even know your father.</em> He couldn't exactly grieve for a stranger, but--the warmth, the desire, the longing and hollowness and the terrible despair he had felt at the temple so many years ago--</p><p><em>He's nothing but a cruel tyrant,</em> the first voice hissed. <em>You've seen what he did. You've seen what he did to the people of Egypt.</em></p><p><em>I already know that,</em> the second voice insisted, getting stronger and stronger by the moment. Horus tried to reconcile the two emotions, the one that hated, the one that craved; the one where the bodies of the bleeding and broken lay strewn over the sand, the one where Seth came to him like a spirit, drawing him into an embrace. The feeling of being loved, even if it was twisted and warped and <em>wrong.</em> </p><p>"I didn't mean to," he whispered to himself. His blood pulsed lowly in his ears, a knell striking deep and unwavering. "I...I'm meant to defeat him. To reclaim the throne."</p><p><em>For a man you can't even call father.</em> </p><p>"It isn't my choice." He wondered how insane he sounded, mumbling to empty air. "Mother wants revenge. I owe it to her."</p><p>
  <em>Nothing there contradicts your dream.</em>
</p><p>"I <em>can't,</em>" he said quietly, a sense of panic choking his thoughts. He couldn't just leave behind everything his mother had worked for tirelessly. "If it wasn't for <em>him,</em> then we wouldn't have to live like this." On the edge of their lives. Starving, fleeing, watching the sun rise and fall through blurred tears.</p><p>The voices paused. </p><p><em>Well,</em> one finally spoke, and Horus couldn't tell which one it was. <em>Love is rarely rational, if at all.</em></p><p>They were moving close to Heliopolis. Isis had been sure to keep him away from the city as far as she could, but now, as the years crawled, he could see the silhouettes of buildings and obelisks that loomed over the sand. Just further would be the palace where Isis had described her childhood, the halls the four siblings had shared, where even the sand glittered like gold from the sun. </p><p><em>He killed your</em> <em>father.</em> They were in a dark chamber somewhere, lit only by smoke, and Horus was on his knees. All he knew was hands in his hair as he dragged his tongue over warm skin, over and over, like he would die of thirst if he didn't. <em>He imprisoned your mother.</em> Violence only gave his dreams an edge. Nails dug into his shoulders, and he felt bubbles of blood bead at his skin. He moaned at the pain, guttural and low, even as he stretched his jaw wider. <em>He killed millions of people.</em></p><p>"You'll serve me," his uncle said, not as a question but a statement. A surety. "You'll be loyal to me, and you'll never betray me." Horus' eyes watered as Seth pushed his cock deeper, into the warm hollow of his throat, but the soft groan his uncle made sent heat rushing down to his own core. He could barely focus now, only nod, trying to swallow as much as he could. Warm, wet, and his jaw felt sore, but he could do it. He'd do whatever his uncle asked of him.</p><p>It must have been an assent. Seth tugged at his hair, one hand harsh, the other lightly stroking his scalp. Horus shuddered, stroking himself hard under his skirt until the heat rose like a flame. His fingers were wet and sticky as he grasped Seth's hips, his nose brushing the other's pelvis. One, two, three slow thrusts, and his uncle stilled before coming with a heavy sigh. Seed dripped down Horus' face and mouth, bitter to the tongue, but he lapped up as much of it as he could. It was like an elixir, one that he couldn't live without, and he moaned as the taste burned.</p><p>
  <em>He doesn't even know you exist.</em>
</p><p>"My little bird," his uncle murmured, his eyes glowing like lamps. "My little, obedient bird."</p><p>It didn't fade away. Every proof that his uncle was malevolent to the bone--and there was an abundance of proof--made the void inside him only grow larger, an insatiable hunger that fed off the dreams and guilt of the morning. He wondered if his mother suspected; Isis had started shooting him looks over their light meals, as they sat on the roof of their dwelling.</p><p>"Horus," she began, "is something wrong?"</p><p><em>I'm in love with my father's murderer.</em> </p><p>"No, mother," he replied.</p><p>"Hm." Isis had a faraway look in her eyes, and Horus was reminded of who she was--not just a mother, but once the Queen of Egypt in its entirety. Someone who had the capability to ruin every inch of the land into a morass of the dead. "You've been withdrawn even more than usual. You haven't been eating as much."</p><p>Horus stared down at the slice of bread in his hand.</p><p>"And you've been restless in your dreams. I can sense your turmoil." Isis' frown deepened, small wrinkles bracketing her eyes and mouth. "My son, is there...someone on your mind?"</p><p>From any other person's mouth it would have been an innocuous, even teasing question. He felt his heart thump loudly behind his ribs, and his mouth had gone dry.</p><p>"...I'm scared," he confessed, his voice cracking on the last syllable. It wasn't--it <em>was</em> the truth, but not the way Isis thought he meant. He wasn't scared of his uncle; not truly, anyway. He was more frightened at the longing he held for him. "I don't know if I'm ready."</p><p>Isis' face relaxed, and Horus nearly jolted in surprise as she drew him into a hug, arms warm and strong and comforting. </p><p>"None of us ever are." She drew back, touching his face hard. "But I have faith in you, Horus. And I know you will persevere."</p><p>.</p><p>.</p><p>.</p><p>
  <span class="Xsux">𒄭𒌑</span>
</p><p>
  <span class="Xsux">ϯⲟⲩ</span>
</p><p>He didn't throw away the cup. Instead, he turned the object over and over in his hand for hours, wondering how he had managed to miss the design of the lotus along the cracked shards, or the little crook-and-flail inscribed near the rim. Horus had put the pieces back together meticulously, untill each jagged edge seamlessly integrated with the others, but a small crack still wrapped around the handle. He couldn't repair that without destroying the cup all over again.</p><p>At least it had been a way of occupying his thoughts. A preventative war was far superior than the full conflict, and Horus had managed to plead with Khnum to have a bit of direct interference. Unlike a full god, he could still descend down to the mortals without any outright consequences, and he did so, dressing himself as one of many soldiers lost in the army. He cut his own canal overnight, silently prayiing that Khnum wouldn't simply tell his mother at the last second. Not while so many lives hinged on this one event, Egyptian and enemy, not when he could stop the war by cutting the knot.</p><p><em>Not bad,</em> he thought he heard a voice say, and he instinctively jerked around, expecting the red wash of hair and the cruel gleam of a khopesh.</p><p>It was only sand and shadow all around.</p><p>Daybreak gleamed on the horizon. The canal circled the knoll, angled directly at the enemy's base. Not enough for a full onslaught—the thought of slaughtering so many at once made his stomach turn—but it would be a sign of fear, a divine interpretation of fury, and maybe one with a little basis in the truth. The ground was wet and loose, and so Horus shoveled, cutting with inhuman stamina until the sun finally rose fully from the horizon.</p><p>He returned to his spot. It was only a matter of <em>when, </em>and for right now it was nothing to do but to wait. As a common soldier, Horus merited little attention; he sat at the edge with his short sword and watched the small army attempt to clump into any semblance of formation. Seth would have laughed long and loud at the sight, the way he always did, like a jackal braying for blood. He would stand proud, letting his headdress shine in all its contorted glory, never bowing an inch.</p><p>Horus shoved away the pangs in his chest, and kept waiting.</p><p>”Khnum,” he whispered, voice as soft as the sand. He couldn’t tell the future, like Thoth could, but the minute shift of air and ground was enough. “It will be at noon.”</p><p>He had only been to the sea once before. A Sea of Red, his mother had said, and they had sat at the rocky shoals as she taught him the phases of the moon. The waves had risen and fallen with a hidden rhythm, one that was so similar and yet so different from the Nile, and now was no exception. He couldn’t use any current from the River, not unless he would also like to spell out in the dirt for his mother to come over and notice, but he could use the sea. Khnum’s hold was significantly weaker, but he didn’t need a torrent. All he needed...</p><p>”Now,” Horus said, quiet as a murmur.</p><p>The water rose, and rose, a salt plume that streamed violently downhill, red with silt and burnt stone. He sat on the knoll and watched the enemy scream, tents flattened in a rush, and tried not to feel anything.</p><p>it was a victory even the gods could appreciate later that evening, although Ra’s growing smirk made Horus stare intently at his wine. “A blessing from my father,” Isis had said, and Hathor had cheerily added, “And one from Osiris! He honors the warriors of the fallen.” He couldn’t miss how his mother’s mouth twisted at that, or how his own chest clenched, like trying to relieve a burden. All of Egypt celebrated. Revelry, victory, and yet here he was, either as hollow to him as the almost-empty cup in his hand.</p><p>So consumed was he in his thoughts that he didn’t notice the air shift, a breeze going the wrong way, until sand curled into the shape of a man at the other end of the small table. Horus had decided to finish his meal in his room, with only a jug of wine and bread remaining. The jug was half-empty by now.</p><p>”It’s half-full.”</p><p>”What?”</p><p>”You realize the phrases mean the same, you know?” Seth peered into the jug, his headdress throwing a jagged shadow across the wall. Horus stared at the cup, his thoughts and body sleepy in a haze of wine. It was either that or stare at his uncle, at the glimpses of red hair curling about his head or the fine, sharp lines that mapped his face. Perfect, he had told Anubis so long ago, and it had been a revelation then; now it was only a statement of fact, like water being wet or the sun being bright. There was no shame in admitting it, and he told his uncle so.</p><p>If Horus had been more sober, he might have glimpsed his uncle's fingers stilling on the jug. As it was, he wasn't, he didn't, and Seth only looked at him steadily. "Oh?"</p><p>"Even when I was young." Alcohol fed him in cycles; the more he drank, the more he craved. It felt like water in his mouth. "I couldn't help it. I never saw anything like you before."</p><p>"You didn't fall onto your knees in fear?"</p><p>It was likely a statement made in jest. Horus frowned at the rim of his cup, the muscles of his face struggling to remember how to work. "No. Of course not."</p><p>He felt rather than saw footsteps nearing his side. Then Seth sat down near him, almost warily, and it occurred to Horus that his uncle was...<em>curious.</em> Not hateful, or biting, or sorrowful. </p><p>"It was you," he said simply.</p><p>Trepidation seized Horus' throat. </p><p>"The battle today." Horus relaxed slightly at that, although dim warning signs flared in the back of his mind. "Even if I'm not as powerful as I was, I can still sense divine intervention. A god's work is all over the sand."</p><p>"I am not in control of Khnum," Horus managed after a pause. His head swam from drink, a slow rocking of the world that made him feel oddly tense all around.</p><p>"Well, I never said you were," Seth continued. "More humorously, I didn't mention his name either. But it doesn't matter--he only answers to Isis, or anyone of her direct blood." Seth rolled his eyes, a quick sliver of crimson. "Not many options there."</p><p><em>I couldn't</em> not <em>interfere.</em> A mess of words clouded his mind, each desperate to be released into the air, and it was an increasingly difficult struggle to pick out what to say. The cup was empty now, down to the dregs, and his hand struggled to keep the vessel steady. <em>I can't just stand to the side. </em></p><p>"I had to," he settled on, putting the cup on the table. It wobbled severely; when he tasted his mouth, it felt stale and dry and sour. He tried to focus. "I can't...not."</p><p>A finger flicked in front of his face. "Well done, I suppose. Just like your father, then."</p><p>Horus glanced at his uncle, physically <em>feeling</em> his blood drain from his face. The fact that Seth had so casually dropped Osiris in, right after a <em>compliment,</em> like his father hadn't torn him apart from the inside out, made him clutch the side of the table. </p><p>"What--?"</p><p>"Surprised I brought him up?" Seth's laugh was completely mirthless. "Don't be. I've hated him for centuries, but I lived with him even longer. He was a good brother. Kind. Teasing." His uncle's mouth twisted, a snarl caught halfway in his throat. "You know, sometimes I wondered about it after...maybe he was possessed, or blackmailed. But that's crazy, isn't it? The Pharaoh of Egypt, being <em>blackmailed</em>?"</p><p>"I don't think it's crazy," Horus said softly.</p><p>"I never understood." Seth's eyes rested on him, and Horus swallowed carefully, his heart beating hard against his ribs. There was something weighted about the gaze that made him aware of his own bared skin. "He said he loved me. He had the gall to say that. I cut up your fucking father into nine pieces, and he looks at me and says he couldn't bear to live without me."</p><p>Horus thought of the first time he had seen Osiris. A dry, stretched day, his body still sore from his uncle's attacks, and out of the sand--out of the dust--the Lord of Duat had rose, skin a dark green and atef gleaming and white. His father had barely looked at him that day, and it was with a sickening feeling now that Horus realised where the attention had solely settled. He had heard about the murder--all of the assembled gods did--but to hear Seth's side, with an undercurrent of pain so raw and vulnerable that it made his heart ache--it made him ache as well.</p><p>"Let me guess what you're thinking." Seth placed the jug down. "Why didn't I tell anyone? Why didn't I seek for help? Do you want to hear it, o great son of his? Heir? King? My future ruler?"</p><p>Wine loosened tongues; even before Horus had ever had his first drink, he knew of its effect. Yet somehow, he could only hold his still, watching his uncle visibly twitch in his seat. <em>Why he is here? What does he want?</em> A softer voice rose unbidden in his head, the same voice from so long ago: <em>Why do I let him stay?</em></p><p>"Ashamed." His uncle wasn't here at all, Horus thought with a touch of sorrow. Seth was mired in the past, a timeless trap, one where he could sink and sink and never swim again. "Disgusted. Frightened. He was going to--" Pale fingers brushed along the tabletop. "He would have destroyed Anubis. Even after, no one would believe me. Who'd believe--" his hands shook as he gestured to himself. </p><p>
  <em>No one's ever consoled him before.</em>
</p><p>The realisation struck Horus like a physical blow. No one had--no one had <em>comforted </em>him, stop him from crumpling. Sekhmet would have only taunted. Isis had turned away, even blamed him. Nephthys was trapped, lost, an illusion; Anubis couldn't know. The gods would have mocked him. Dismissed him. Not a single soul in all of Egypt would have held any sympathy, and why would they? He bathed the river with their blood.</p><p>What Osiris had done to him was a crippling wound, a wound that ran deeper and colder than any of the flesh; one that scarred his heart and body and mind, shutting down to a shell. In one stroke, he had taken Seth's strength, will, and any means of support. He meant to humiliate, possess, isolate, so that Seth had no choice but to crawl back to him.</p><p>It was hard to love or hate a stranger; a younger Horus couldn't feel much of the former for his father, but the latter now stirred deep inside his core. He found himself reaching to his uncle, and he thought he felt the same ravenous emptiness that he had experienced at Ombos. <em>It's not just the sin.</em> His mouth burned acidic with guilt. <em>It's that no one was there to catch him.</em></p><p><em>That's why he's here,</em> the voice said, relentless. Horus blinked; the alcohol had fully settled now, and everything felt like a soft, warm blur. </p><p>
  <em>You're probably the only one that won't attack me on sight. </em>
</p><p>"In the desert," he started clumsily, his tongue feeling too large for his mouth. Seth's head jerked towards him, mouth flat. "I swore to you. I swore to you I would never try to hurt you--" What was he even saying? "That night, the mirror...it made me. It took what was my father's desire and..."</p><p>
  <em>It could only amplify a desire already there.</em>
</p><p>He was never good with words. Drink made his mind soft, and as if he was viewing this from a different place altogether, he slid onto his knees before his uncle. The ground was solid and firm. Last time he had done this, Seth had strangled him with sand.</p><p>This time he clasped his uncle's hand, even as Seth remained motionless.</p><p>
  <em>What the hell am I doing?</em>
</p><p>"I won't deny that my father was a good pharaoh." Seth stiffened, harsh words already forming on his tongue, but liquid courage made Horus press on. "He ruled the land well, and Egypt prospered. He was also a monster." The words came in broken syllables, like his brain and mouth couldn't coordinate. "As Heir, I will keep Egypt safe. I will give it back the life you took from it."</p><p>He stared up at Seth's face, memorizing the contours, the way shadows fell across skin. </p><p>"But you don't have to fear me," he whispered. "You don't have to be--ashamed, or disgusted, or scared. You can be safe." </p><p>"From what?" Seth's tone meant to mock, but his voice caught raggedly. "From <em>you?</em>"</p><p>"From me," Horus agreed without a hint of irony, and his uncle sucked in a breath of surprise. "From my father, or mother, or Sekhmet, or anyone else who would try to--try to hurt you. Not in defence. Not in combat. But in the way that cripples the soul." Both of his hands held Seth's now. "You are both god and man, uncle, and I think--I think Egypt has forgotten the second."</p><p>"If you're <em>pitying</em> me--"</p><p>"Never." Blue and red eyes locked, each unable to tear away from the other. "I want to be your sanctuary."</p><p>The words fell from his mouth like stones. It was <em>the</em> oath, one almost always unspoken. <em>To be your heart and home,</em> Osiris must have said to Isis. <em>To be your cradle and crown,</em> Isis said back, and all of Egypt celebrated their union. <em>To be your stone--to be your shield</em>--Seth and Nephthys, in a golden time so long ago. <em>To be your sanctuary,</em> an ordinary human would say, love connected and forged in a way the gods couldn't touch. His parents couldn't hold the love; his aunt and uncle had splintered. Yet here he was, commiting to a vow so deep, so visceral, that not even Duat could separate it. "I swear by the ankh, uncle."</p><p>And as he said it, the vow settled--imperceptible, invisible, but it was there. A string, unraveling into the void. An unbreakable promise.</p><p>"Why?" He had never heard his uncle's voice so quiet before. "There's no reason for you to do this. I've tried to <em>kill</em> you multiple times, you foolish brat."</p><p>"You didn't." The heat of Seth's hand flowed down Horus' own, down his wrists and arms and right into his head. </p><p>"Then <em>why?"</em></p><p>The answer was so simple to say out loud. On a normal, sober day Horus would rather cut out his own tongue than utter it--but the wine had sunk deep and mellow into his stomach, and he felt immortal.</p><p>"I love you."</p><p>His uncle went rigid.</p><p>Then all at once, the walls seemed to crumple inwards--it was just sand, sand that had accumulated in the cracks and splinters of stone, but it <em>tore</em> from the surface like bones through skin. It wrapped around Horus' head, his throat, dragging his body backwards like a puppet, and he could only funnel in air to keep his windpipe from being crushed. Shock and inebriation warred in his brain; the former swept down like a cold stream, and he was being lifted, his toes barely brushing the ground--</p><p>"I <em>knew</em> it," Seth snarled, tightening his hand. A gasp cracked out of Horus' mouth as the sand around his chest squeezed. "I <em>knew it,</em> you sick, deranged <em>fuck.</em> I thought you had some scrap of fucking dignity, but you're--"</p><p>
  <em>I can't breathe.</em>
</p><p>"You're just like your father." His uncle's voice had lowered, but each word was soaked with hate and--and <em>dread.</em> The words made something small inside of Horus shatter. "How long will it be? Before you take something--<em>anything</em>--that I have left--"</p><p>The sand tightened like a strangler, forcing Horus' head back until he could see the ceiling. It was filling his mouth, his nose, burning down his lungs, and his feet thrashed in empty air. Tears tore up in his eyes.</p><p>"--and <em><strong>destroy</strong> it</em>--"</p><p>A bone cracked, a faint blossom of pain that burst into thousands of spikes. It might have been a rib. Horus no longer tried to struggle against the sand--he could only bear it, only use his power to keep air circulating to his brain. One more second. One more, and he was going to <em>die,</em> he was going to--</p><p>"What do you want from me?" Seth shouted at him, his eyes blown wide from fear. "What do you want this time, <em>ꜣsjr</em><em>, </em><em>sen,</em> brother of my--" He choked, a soft, sobbing sound. "Is this what you want? You want to ruin me, to take me even in my dreams?" His uncle's focus shifted off him, even as he reached up and twisted at his headdress violently. "Gods, why can't you fucking <em>let me go? </em>Please..."</p><p>The sand curled away, and Horus collapsed on the ground, heaving for breath. His neck and chest felt like it had been mauled by a crocodile. Seth stared at him, his face eerily blank, even as Horus coughed and gasped for air. His lungs burned with each fresh renewal.</p><p>"I can't do anything to you, can't I?"</p><p>His uncle sounded so...so <em>small,</em> then, almost childlike in his vulnerability. Horus closed his eyes and let himself breathe, his body already slowly knitting up his wounds. Air in, air out, each smoothing out a wound to the flesh. But some wounds couldn't heal, not when they festered and bled for centuries, and he could help. He knew he could. He could take Seth's pain away. He could keep him here and persuade him that he wasn't like Osiris, not at all, that he truly, genuinely did care for--</p><p>
  <em>And that wouldn't make you any different, would it?</em>
</p><p>"I told you, uncle," he rasped, wincing at the soreness of his throat. Each word tore from his stomach like a gutted fish. "You are safe from me."</p><p>When he opened his eyes, only a trail of sand on the sill gave any indication that his uncle had been there at all.</p><p>Horus let him go.</p><p>.</p><p>.</p><p>.</p><p>𒄑𒊭𒌑</p><p>ⲥⲟⲟⲩ</p><p>Kingdoms had risen, and fallen, and risen, and fallen again.</p><p>Being a god was ardous. There was still a final step--to be rid of mortal anchors, to discard the old and forge new relationships from a pure, divine essence--but until then, Horus flew about Egypt all the way to its borders. He couldn't help the people directly now, not when his powers had grown so strong, but he could call upon the wind. He blew ships away, sifted the sands, and let the sky be his realm.</p><p>Or maybe it was a coping mechanism. He hardly talked anymore, and once, having bumped into Thoth, had needed several seconds before his tongue could properly work again. Thoth must have told his mother, since the next night Isis knocked upon his door.</p><p>"You can't wait forever," she said with little preamble. "You're stalling, Horus. You think you hide it well, but you are my son. I would know it better than anyone."</p><p>How many times had he left and returned to the room? He barely walked about the palace anymore; no one to meaningfully talk to, nothing to enjoy or even spend the time. He didn't sleep--he didn't need to--and he didn't want to, anyhow. His dreams offered something far beyond his reach.</p><p>"Tell me why."</p><p>"I can't," he muttered, his stomach crawling with pain. He knew exactly why, and he suspected his mother did too.</p><p>Other gods spoke to him. Maat, cool and reasonable, but even she wore an expression of pity as she quietly left his room. Thoth, stammering slightly, his words as wise as ever. Hathor, pink-cheeked and pleading, until Horus promised her he'd "reconsider." He wondered if his mother had sent them. They flitted in, flitted out, and didn't return.</p><p>There were several gods that didn't bother visiting. Nephthys drifted in the hall like a thin golden shadow, and it took Horus several solid seconds to comprehend that she was--<em>outside</em> of her room. As if nothing had happened. She carried a jug of water, the other hand holding a bowl of fruit, her hair long and shining as it curled down to her waist.</p><p>"Nephew." She didn't seem surprised to see him. "Did you need something?"</p><p>Horus opened his mouth, then closed it, with only a dry, weak sound escaping his throat.</p><p>"You must be startled." She lifted her bowl, offering him a date. He took it, still wondering if he had wandered into an illusion of sorts. "I should look more famished, for starters; years and years without worship, just fading away." </p><p>"We didn't want to disturb you."</p><p>"And rightfully so." She offered him another fruit. He stepped away, shaking his head. "Oh well, then. More for me." She turned back to her room. "Come with me?"</p><p>The room looked--normal. Normal and mundane, bed and table, no piling of dust or rotted stone. "I started cleaning it recently," Nephthys explained, setting down both wares onto the table. "It took my mind off quite a lot of things. I can't live forever in fear, you know."</p><p>"Why..." Horus fished around for the right words. He had never really <em>spoken</em> with his aunt, save for the time in the mirror, and he honestly didn't know how to proceed. Was she kind? Snappish? Easy to anger, slow to infuriate? He didn't know anything firsthand about her. "Why didn't you tell anyone? They would have welcomed you back with open arms."</p><p>"Would they?" She gestured for him to sit down. "They have forgotten me. Ra doesn't care, not in a way that could help, and your mother will feel shamed." </p><p>"...Anubis," Horus croaked. "Your son. He would have been glad to see you, even if you weren't his true mother. And your..."</p><p>Nephthys looked at him steadily.</p><p>"...husband," he finished, feeling absolute mortification rise in him. </p><p>"Possibly." She shrugged, sipping the water directly from the jug. "But I learned that my supposed child is now in Duat, with your very own father. Forgive me if that serves as quite a deterrent."</p><p>"I...I know what he did."</p><p>"So do I. I can't say I'm still completely over the surprise." She set the jug down. "And as for my husband...he isn't <em>here</em>, is he? He is long gone. I can't feel him anymore." </p><p>"...yes," he said.</p><p>"Hm." A brief spasm of pain flashed over her face, but it was gone in the next second. "I miss him. He was the thing I missed the most. I would like to see Anubis as well; I had wanted a child for years, and we were planning to have one..." Her voice cracked, just a little. "Isn't it a strange thing? Having something so close and lovely near your grasp, only for its shards to remain?"</p><p>Horus thought of his uncle leaving, sand strewn across the room like moonlight across waves. </p><p>"No," he said, unwilling to hold her gaze. "Not at all."</p><p>She stared at him, her expression curious.</p><p>"You are not like your parents at all."</p><p>He flinched as if she had slapped him, but she continued, "It is not a good or bad thing. It was simply an observation. And you are the pharaoh now, if my senses are clear."</p><p>Numbly, he nodded.</p><p>"All pharaohs require a fealty from the gods." Nephthys still stared at him. "You don't have mine's--obviously--but you don't have Seth's either. Why is that? He would be <em>forced</em> to swear it, if you wish it so, and even I know of the conflicts you had against him." She smiled thinly. "Sometimes I think I hear your conversations. He doesn't talk to any other god."</p><p>"I swore to myself," Horus whispered, staring hard at his knees. Nephthys' stare bore into him like a spear, and he was starkly reminded--she might have been a shell, a wisp, but she was still an ancient goddess, and he could feel her stare down to his bones. "I would never make him to do anything."</p><p>"Even if he slaughtered all of Egypt? I hear he had taken to that quite easily." Nephthys adjusted the jug. "I don't think you're one to stand at the side while the people bleed and scream."</p><p>"I'll fight him if I have to. But I won't compel him to do anything."</p><p>Nephthys' smile looked more like a twisting of the mouth. "A noble god, then. How rare."</p><p>Horus shifted in his seat, oddly feeling like a child again. He had no idea what to say.</p><p>"Aunt," he said instead, standing and even bowing his head. "I am...glad to have seen you, and to have talked with you." Nephthys' face didn't give much away, but he had the distinct impression that she was wholly unimpressed. "Do you want me to tell the others?"</p><p>"I'd rather you not. I won't be here long, anyhow."</p><p>Surprise ran through Horus. "Then where are you headed?" An unbidden question rose, one Horus almost had to physically clamp down on his tongue. <em>Are you going to look for Seth?</em></p><p>"Perhaps the humble abodes of Egypt. I have lost touch with the people." Nephthys stood as well, all elegant grace and cold, muted beauty. Even though he was taller than her, Horus shrank in her presence. " I know what you're thinking. Do I love him? Do I still wish to seek him?"</p><p>"I...I wouldn't know."</p><p>"The answer to both is yes." Nephthys dragged one finger along the table, and in the dim light Horus could see the tip coated in dust. "But I won't. We will always love each other," and here her eyes burned, ever so slightly, like the depths of a hollow flame. "We will never forget each other. But we have different paths, Horus, and it's..." she closed her eyes briefly, and Horus saw the sorrow of centuries rest over her face, like a veil of shadow. "It is for our own good that they do not cross."</p><p>She reached out and patted at his shoulder, her fingers cool.</p><p>"Tell no one of this." The air felt heavy, thick, with a thousand things unspoken. "And let fortune guide your hand, nephew."</p><p>.</p><p>.</p><p>.</p><p>Someone had built a temple for him.</p><p>He couldn't place the feeling. He flew around it once, twice--it was a rather humble structure, made of old sandstone and adorned with precious stones--and when he entered inside, being sure to reduce his form to the particles of air, it was neat and plain and smelled of incense and fragrant oils. It reminded him of his mother's scent, time and time ago, back when he was only mortal. She had often rubbed oil on his face to prevent him from getting sunburn.</p><p>There were people inside. They knelt down to a small figurine of a falcon--with a jolt of surprise, he realised it was the same one he had carved in Ombos. How it had survived for so long remained an utter mystery. A few villagers piled small parcels of food around the figurine, a few more stacked several thin scrolls, and by sundown the place was empty. He materialized on the edge of the roof, invisible to all.</p><p>"It's an odd feeling, isn't it?"</p><p>Ra probably wore more jewelry than any other thing alive, yet somehow Horus hadn't noticed her coming up to him at all. She had simply glided in, one moment to the next, a mass of skin and hair and a smile that could cut the sky apart. As Horus had grown into his Sight, he could start seeing the multiple forms of gods--the physical embodiment, the quiddity of their existence, their imprints upon Nun, and the wisps and vapours found among humanity. With Hathor he could see her beautiful countenance, the wild flame and ardour of passion, the very concept ingrained into subliminal shapes. WIth his mother, with the other gods, he could see their aura.</p><p>But with Ra--Horus blinked, and the sight only gave him a sense of brilliance. Of a creation condensed, dating to something old and eternal that even the other gods couldn't grasp. When he blinked again, Ra was in her usual form, taking a seat next to him.</p><p>"It is," Horus finally said. There was no point in trying to deceive her. "I used to see temples to other gods in my youth, and it was a surprise to see one dedicated to myself."</p><p>"You're formal, aren't you." Warm fingers pinched his cheek. "You don't even come around Heliopolis anymore! We put up meals and there's just this cold, empty seat. It hurts an old lady's heart."</p><p>Horus held her gaze, even though every instinct in his body told him to turn away.</p><p>"Did you want something?"</p><p>"<em>Oh,</em> thank gods. I didn't want to drag out the platitudes." Ra made no hand motion, yet one moment they sat on sandstone, and the next moment they were--Horus scrambled to his feet, trying to process his surroundings. Sand, Nile, dryness and--and--</p><p>"The akhet." In the distance, he could see two mountains rising from a plain of nothingness. Ra drew near, unaffected as always. "This is the east, great-great...something, grandson of mine. I forget how many family lines there are."</p><p>"Where are we?"</p><p>"I just said it."</p><p>"No, I meant--" Horus touched his chest; he could <em>feel</em> it, the way he could feel air enter his lungs and sand under his feet, but it was a disembodied feeling, like another person's hand had brushed his skin. "This isn't--we are not in Egypt anymore."</p><p>"True and false. We're in--" Ra made a rather peculiar gesture. "Okay, I can't explain it without wasting time, and I love wasting time--but not today. Hop on."</p><p>There was no time to register the scene; a wooden barque had appeared, long and slim and beautiful as an arrow, with oars hanging off its sides. Ra stood upon the deck, expectantly looking at Horus.</p><p>"Well?"</p><p>"I'm--" Horus' voice was dry. "I need a good reason to just follow along with you."</p><p>"Here's a reason." Ra's voice never rose, never turned angry, but the faint undercurrent of--of <em>something</em>--made cold terror flood into his stomach. "All of Egypt will be destroyed if I don't sail this ship. Every single sah in this land will be consumed, devoured to shreds, and not even have the opportunity to enter Duat. Get on the boat, Horus."</p><p>Horus climbed up onto the boat.</p><p>"Isis really did raise you well." A simple chair had appeared on deck, and Ra sat down on it, crossing her legs. "But she never told you of this, apparently."</p><p>"Ra," Horus began, "I don't know what you're trying to do here."</p><p>Ra rolled her eyes. "Glad to see you still keeping up the Good King act. How's your weapon? Can you fight with it?"</p><p>Horus drew out his spear from empty air. He had moved on from his sword some time ago, preferring the spear's range a little more. "Yes, but--"</p><p>Air rushed around him, heavy and violent, and the barque was--it wasn't in the <em>air,</em> precisely, but it wasn't on the sand either. It was everywhere and nowhere at once, a chaotic, ageless mess of time and land and sky, of things that existed even before Ra had formed. The boat lurched and Horus staggered, trying to turn to Ra.</p><p>"What's happening?"</p><p>Ra's smile was almost bittersweet. Almost. "The day, little bird."</p><p>And above them the sun rose; not just rose, but <em>grew,</em> a small kernel into a magnificent inferno, a blaze bright and gold. Horus flinched from the glare, holding up his spear.</p><p>"What do you think, Horus?"</p><p>Horus glanced over the side. <em>The Nile,</em> he thought helplessly, <em>the deserts. The fields, the people, the ka and soul and life. </em>And then Egypt was a speck as they crossed into the void, of a hollowness that felt like his guts were being wrenched out. Horus stumbled on his feet, even as Ra stared at him from her chair.</p><p>"What is <em>going on?</em>"</p><p>Ra's laugh was as light and lethal as a dagger. "I told you, Horus, this is the sun. This is my journey. While you <em>children</em> squabble over who gets to sit on the prettiest patch of sand, I journey on my boat here." She laughed again, never leaving her seat. "I hold my boat up from will, little one. I hold up the universe as a stray thought."</p><p>"I don't understand--"</p><p>"No need to. It'll just hurt your head." Ra tilted her head, studying him impassively. "Stray thoughts, right? Where do you think most of my attention goes to?"</p><p>"I...I don't know."</p><p>She sighed loudly. "Tell me what you see."</p><p>Horus leaned over the side again. They were rowing over a sea, a stretch of water smooth as a mirror, and he <em>had</em> seen the sea before but it was incomparable to what he was gazing at now. The waters endless, dark, void of life. An abyss incomprehensible.</p><p>"The waters where I came from," Ra said softly from behind, her voice lacking amusement for once. "And someday I'll return here, and so will the gods, and so will the people. That's how the cycle works."</p><p>Horus couldn't tear his stare away. It would take eternity to reach the bottom, but he found himself leaning forward further, trying to catch a glimpse of <em>anything.</em> It was a chasm, deep and ravenous, something beyond his senses. Maybe if he reached out with an oar, or his spear--maybe he could touch the surface--</p><p>
  <em>What...</em>
</p><p>The sight of it seared through his eyes, a pain sharp and bloodcurdling even as he wrenched away from the rail, a sickening nausea opening up in his stomach. Cold sweat covered his skin, his hands, and it was a sight that twisted his mind, his eyes, one that made him gasp for air. Blood trickled from his mouth.</p><p>"Horus," Ra repeated quietly, "what did you see?"</p><p>Horus slowly found his voice. His throat felt like he was being strangled, finger by finger, noose by noose. </p><p>"What's down there?"</p><p>"<em>What did you see?"</em></p><p>Horus closed his eyes, trying to rein in the panic in his chest. "...a nightmare. A--a <em>thing.</em>"</p><p>"Closer, yet no less useful. Keep going."</p><p>"I--I can't," he said, hating how his voice cracked in a sob. Every time he tried to remember it, pain flared up in his head. It wasn't just a sharp present pain; it was an ache deep in his bones, the skin of a drum stretched tight. The hunger when he was a child, eating dirt from cupped palms; the despair that had crashed into him that fateful night as he crouched over his uncle's limp form. The terror of humans dying, bleeding all around, and all he could do was flee, powerless to stop. He clutched at his headdress, trying to steel himself. "It was--it was terrible, it was...I can't, I can't describe it. I <em>can't.</em>"</p><p>"You <em>can."</em> Ra was suddenly before him, fingers gripping hard on his chin. He opened his eyes to her gaze, burrowing remorselessly into every inch of his body. For a moment she looked utterly unrecognisable. "You can, and you <em>will.</em> I have seen him for my entire existence. <em>Every god</em> has laid eyes on him, from your father to your uncle to my own daughters and sons, and every single one has described him to me. Tell me," she said, her voice radiating with soft coldness, "or I will ensure you never step foot into Egypt again." </p><p>Horus could barely speak. It felt like sickles were cutting into his heart, carving it up into bloody, raw shreds. If he had looked upon it for a moment longer--he shuddered, trying to calm himself down. Tried to breathe normally.</p><p>"A serpent," he whispered.</p><p>Ra released her grip. "Good boy."</p><p>Warm hands trailed over his face. Something tickled his nose--it was Ra's hair, long and gorgeous as the Nile, and then her mouth lightly pressed against his forehead. Horus shook in her grasp as warmth radiated from the spot.</p><p>"A true god can look upon Apep without pain." Ra withdrew back into her makeshift throne. "I've given you my Eye temporarily. I know you don't want to become a god, and I don't care."</p><p>Horus shakily stood, the spear limp in his hand. "It's not that simple--"</p><p>"You think I don't know what you want? What you do? Everything under the sun is under my purview, Horus. I don't have to speak with you to know you."</p><p>"So you...knew? Everything?"</p><p>The barque shook, ever so slightly.</p><p>"Of course not." Ra smiled up at him, and Horus turned away. "No god is omniscient. But you're too damn <em>obvious</em> about it. I think the only way you could make it more obvious is pissing Seth's name in the desert and flying above it for all of Egypt to see."</p><p>Horus blanched. "I'm not--I <em>don't</em>--"</p><p>"You're afraid of losing him." At that, Ra simply <em>laughed,</em> and it echoed in the emptiness around. "You only had your mother before, you feel nothing for your father, and you don't really care about any of us--which is completely <em>fair,</em> mind you-- but you're heads over heels for a psychotic tyrant. I suppose you inherited your mother's poor taste."</p><p>Anger rose in Horus, hot and quick as a flame. "If you knew about--about what my father did," he started, his voice shaking, "then why didn't you <em>do anything?</em> Why didn't you stop him?! Why didn't you punish him?"</p><p>Ra met his furious look evenly. "Did you not hear a single word I said?"</p><p>"I heard you."</p><p>"I can't afford to lose a single god." The barque was slowing down--a small change, but the dread seeped back into Horus, snuffing out his anger. "Why do you think there's so few of us that are powerful? Too many, and they'll go out of control, like your parents and aunt and uncle. Too few, and..." she rested her chin in her palm, smiling serenly up at him. "Take a guess."</p><p>Horus glanced back over the side.</p><p>"What is that?"</p><p>"Apep is a dear old friend of mine." Ra crossed one leg over another, her jewelry clinking together gently. "And when I mean <em>dear old friend,</em> I mean the absolute end of our world as we know it. We've been fighting since I was formed."</p><p>"He's--as powerful as you?"</p><p>"Easily. Why do you think I brought you along?"</p><p>The blow came, so fast and violent, that for a single moment all Horus felt was an all-encompassing agony, like he had been dipped in boiling tar. Then he was skidding along the deck, the wood burning into his skin, each scrape igniting a throb into his skull. He didn't have time to react before the second blow came--<em>the serpent</em>--and he struck out blindly with his spear, feeling the force wrench away the shaft from his palms. He dove it--third blow, <em>fourth</em> blow, so quick that it looked like blurs.</p><p>"Ra," Horus shouted, and then the barque lurched again. The ground slipped from under his feet. "I can't--"</p><p>Ra stared at him, impassive.</p><p>"You can," she said slowly, "or we'll all die."</p><p>He saw what he meant by the Eye; his right was still normal, seeing only darkness and boat and the glimmer of Ra; but his left <em>shone,</em> and he saw--the serpent roes high and cold above the prow, dozens of feet of dark, curling length, a jaw so wide and terrible that it looked like a fanged cave glimmering with blood. Dual pains wracked inside his head; the right eye couldn't handle the sight of Apep for long, and it squeezed in his socket.</p><p>Apep swarmed down again. The fangs missed Horus by a hair--venom dripped from the maw, oily black--and he jumped backward, jabbing the spear hard at the serpent. It pushed against rough scales. He dug in deeper, summoning his strength, the power of the air, feeling the head sink bit by bit--</p><p>Apep thrashed, just once, and the blow sent Horus sprawling at Ra's feet. She hadn't budged at all from her chair.</p><p>"Are you not able to help?" Horus gritted out as she waved a bare foot over his face. She even had gold rings and studs on her toes. He wasn't sure why he was focusing on that detail; maybe it was the series of concussive blows to his head, with black spots flickering in his vision.</p><p>Ra snorted. "You want to fight him in the sea?"</p><p>"...no."</p><p>"I'm the only thing keeping the barque afloat, sweetheart. Get up."</p><p>Apep had coiled over almost half of the deck now. Instinct fueled Horus' moves; he dove to the left as the fanged head crashed down, already rolling aside and jabbing hard at the space between scales--then the serpent was retreating, slithering away, and there wasn't even time to feel relief before the tail whipped around in a flash. Panic made him surge upward, wings ripping from his back, but they felt heavy and leaden. He wasn't in his prime element here. He ducked, dodged, but the tail swung up, clipping him by the ankle, slamming him back down on the deck. The air punched out of his chest in one cold shock.</p><p><em>I can't</em> <em>win.</em></p><p>The realisation wasn't immediate. Another slash; another lunge. He spun the shaft, using the momentum to pierce deep into a scale. What came out wasn't--it wasn't <em>blood,</em> so much as something both dark and translucent, like a shadow spilling between fingers. Then the body <em>moved,</em> fluid as the wind, and for a countless time he hit the surface of the barque. A sickening crunch flared from his spine.</p><p>He tried again. He almost fell this time--<em>almost</em>--but a soft, golden lightness surrounded him, drawing him back gently, and he saw Ra minutely crooking a finger. Then Apep lunged, faster than anything his size should be able to move, and wood cracked from the impact. Horus blinked up blearily, pinned under a long, great weight, feeling a cold dribble of blood seeping down the side of his face. He stared up in the maw, at a mouth ready to consume him whole.</p><p>Dimly, he heard Ra sigh, soft as a breeze.</p><p><em>I can't win.</em> And that was the point, he realised, even as the mouth descended like carrion birds. <em>I can only endure.</em></p><p>The spear was still in his hand. Venom dripped against his face, eating effortlessly into flesh, and a guttural scream tore out of his throat. His arms shook, tightened, and he could <em>smell</em> the mouth now; a smell of rot and death, more putrid than any corpse or hollow pit. </p><p>He swung the spear upward, just as the fangs engulfed him.</p><p>Apep's blood sprayed all over his head. Pain <em>erupted</em> down his body, a vivid torturous cascade that only grew and grew, but he kept pushing the spear upward. Up and up and up and the flesh was endless--blood, matter stained all over his hands, corroding his skin down to bone--but there was nothing else he could do. He could only struggle; only endure. He could only hope to drive the serpent off before dying.</p><p>His grip went slack.</p><p>Slowly, distantly, like he was viewing it all through a veil, the weight receded. The barque shook, one last time, and then Ra was standing over him, cupping his face. Apep was slithering across the deck, over the side, the shadows leaking from myriads of wounds.</p><p>And then Apep was gone. They were alone on the barque; Ra knelt over, prodding at patches of skin. Horus couldn't bite back his gasps of pain.</p><p>"Not bad, Horus." A finger pinched his cheek; he almost screamed at the sensation of nail scraping across exposed bone, but then a flush of warmth crept from the spot of contact. Ra must have been healing him. "I thought you'd be eaten up for sure, but that was <em>quite</em> a spectacle. Very fun fight."</p><p>"Spectacle?" he croaked out, wincing at his torn vocal cords. Ra poked him in the neck.</p><p>"Well, it can't <em>solely</em> be for my amusement." Ra waved a hand, and the worst of the pain lessened, if only a little. "Everyone has their own fight. Hathor's is my favourite, personally; she just runs up to Apep's eye and tries to blind him. It works--" she made a face. "Half of the time. The other half is just embarassing."</p><p>"Ha...thor?"</p><p>"What'd I tell you about gods? Try to stand up." <em>Try</em> was the key word; when he tried pushing himself to a sitting position, pain arced in white lances along his back. He blacked out for a second, his body automatically slumping back on the deck. "Or not."</p><p>Horus shook his head soundlessly.</p><p>"Every god takes a turn here." Ra sat down cross-legged next to him, hair spreading across the wooden boards. "It takes a long time for those wounds to heal, and Apep remembers each for much longer than preferred. Every single of my children have felt Apep's blood on their body, his poison in their eyes. Yes, even Sekhmet. Even your father." Horus flinched at the mention. "To say they're not paragons is like saying the Nile is wet, but who am I to turn down my guards?"</p><p>"What is he?"</p><p>"A devourer of worlds." Ra stood in a ripple of light. "Try getting up now."</p><p>At least he could sit up, although the attempt to stand made him crash down to the deck again. Ra watched with growing amusement; the barque floated forward in the void, untouched and unbothered. Horus rubbed a hand over his face, trying to clear his mind from his racing heart. </p><p>"The barque," he said slowly, pieces clicking together. "The barque is the sun."</p><p>Ra laughed loudly at that. "Almost there! It's half of me. Both of us are required--for the sun to exist, and for the sun to move."</p><p>Miraculously, the spear had still remained. Horus summoned it to his hand, letting it dissolve into particles. </p><p>"Why did you bring me here?"</p><p>Ra smirked. "What kind of answer do you want?"</p><p>"What?"</p><p>"What kind of answer? The nice one, or the real one?" Horus didn't have time to respond, even as her voice dripped with mock sympathy. "I wanted to show you the cruelty of the universe. I wanted to show you the burden of what gods like us go through, and why we're so important."</p><p>Horus clenched his jaw, but said nothing.</p><p>Ra's smile stretched wider. "That didn't fly, did it?"</p><p>"...What was your purpose?"</p><p>Ra crouched before him. A jolt of panic surged from his chest, but she was very carefully tilting his chin up, red mouth curved into a grin that widened from ear to ear. </p><p>She said, "I want you to go see your father."</p><p>Horus jerked upright. "<em>What</em>--"</p><p>Her finger never left his chin, and he fell silent. "I can't force you to be a god. And I won't try. But I won't sit around, either, having the pharaoh more defenceless against Apep than a newborn baby. I know you are a person of truth, Horus. You rely on it like a crutch."</p><p>Horus stared helplessly at her.</p><p>"You understand the danger here. I know you won't turn a blind Eye to it." The finger slid up to his mouth, to his nose, before resting around his left eye. "Only those of Osiris' blood can go down to his residence in Duat freely without his permission. And only you possess the knowledge."</p><p>"I..."</p><p>"A war is coming soon." Ra's eyes seemed dim at the moment. "A terrible war of gods and spirits. Apep won't be the only foe Egypt will face. I don't care how <em>many</em> gods are on my side--" she shrugged, "so much as <em>who.</em>"</p><p>Cold crept around Horus' heart.</p><p>"Egypt needs its soldier." The finger moved--and for a heart-stopping second, Horus thought she would pluck out his eye, as easy as a child stealing sweets. But she only straightened, and he saw her with both visions, an aura over an aura. "You're the only one that's shown kindness to Seth even when you knew what he was. He'll listen to you."</p><p>His eyes widened. "You can't mean--"</p><p>"I <em>do </em>mean it. Retrieve the seed of Seth from your father." Ra stared at him, and she looked as beautiful and terrible as a star made of stone. "It's time your uncle returned home."</p><p>.</p><p>.</p><p>.</p><p>The journey into Duat was the least of the problems. Horus' rebuttal had consisted of weakly admitting that he didn't really know <em>how</em> to go to the Underworld. Ra had laughed long and loud at that, even slapping her knee, before she sobered.</p><p>"Don't wrap your brain around it. This barque--" she made a flourish, "isn't the only one I have. The second half of my voyage, luckily for you, goes through Duat."</p><p>The second barque was smaller, darker in tone, although no less smooth. Horus felt the change in the air; it had been warm, almost comfortable, and then a chill began to descend. Dark, chaotic shapes rose in the distance.</p><p>He felt his mouth dry. Even the smallest ignorant child knew vaguely of what Duat was like--similar to the earth above, yet filled with a strange, eerie chill that only the dead could embody--and yet he had never physically laid his eyes on it. it was an unspoken rule, almost a hidden taboo; and in the knowledge of what his father truly was, the desire to stay away had only grown stronger. The sea had narrowed into a river, wider and deeper than the Nile. From the corner of his eye Horus thought he saw silhouettes, twisted and haunted, but when he turned to look there was only emptiness.</p><p>"We're going past the caves," Ra said from behind. Horus saw holes carved into mountain sides, rock shiny and dark as polished obsidian. The sky above was a deep, heavy grey, like polluted ash, and the plants gleamed silvery-white. The river narrowed, widened, but never dried. "How are you liking it?"</p><p>Horus' grip tightened on the rail. "Not much."</p><p>Some of the silhouettes had solidified into shapes. Horus recognised them as minor deities, their heads shrouded in headdresses of jackals and lions and other predators, even as the other silhouettes of the dead marched past them. One of the deities flung out a hand, grabbiing a silhouette. Horus only saw it form into the shape of a dark-skinned man before the deity opened its mouth, tearing off the man's head with one cruel bite.</p><p>"Don't feel too bad," Ra's voice echoed, even as the sound of chewing and snapping filled Horus' ears. "He was a rapist and a murderer when he lived." He could almost hear her smirk. "A bit ironic, given who rules over Duat now--"</p><p>Horus whirled on her, fists clenching. Ra had the grace to remain silent, even if it was punctuated with an eye roll.</p><p>The barque continued its path. More mountains rose, crags rocky and sharp, with mounds and fields covering the foothills. Here the silhoeuttes were clearer, women and men and children wandering along the grasses, their faces content. They stared at the barque as it passed by. Up above, he could see the faint outline of a palace shrouded in mist. The boat creaked to a halt.</p><p>"Well?" Ra raised an eyebrow. "Go on."</p><p>He thought of Apep, curling in the depths, and of the endless realm of the dead. He thought suddenly of Seth's hair--and it had been so long since he had seen it--and how out of place it would seem here, among the muted grey, a flash of fire among ash. And he thought of his father, calm and placid as a statue, hiding only vileness beneath.</p><p>"I will do my best," he settled on, and Ra's eyebrows climbed almost into her hairline. "I'll try."</p><p>"How reassuring. Go. Shoo." It was almost fondness in her tone.</p><p>He flew up to the palace, letting his wings fully unfurl. There was no tangible air here, but cold ripples caressed his feathers, and he sighed softly. He hadn't flown for relaxation for a long time, but now couldn't exactly count as one, not with the dead and Ra behind and his father looming in front.</p><p>Lines and lines of the dead trailed up to the palace entrance. He flew above them, entering through a small window that overlooked a large empty chamber. A few smaller deities glanced up at him, but did and said nothing. There was no furniture; no decorations; no touch of colour. Room after room he flew, each larger and hollower than the previous, save for the dead that packed from wall to wall. The throne room had to be near. He swooped under the last arch, almost five men tall, and came across--</p><p>The tip of a spear rested at his throat, nudging him near ground level. Horus glanced down to see Anubis on the other end of the weapon, his face partially hidden by the black headdress of a jackal.</p><p>"Cousin," he greeted, feeling remarkably calm. "It's me. Horus."</p><p>Anubis drew back the spear, although not as much as Horus would've liked. "You're a long way from Heliopolis, Horus."</p><p>"I have urgent matters here."</p><p>"So do i. There's no end to the dead." A huge set of scales stood in the centre of the room; on one plate was a resting heart, the red colour vivid and startling. On the other plate was a grey feather. "Maat permits me to borrow her feathers," his cousin explained, even as he adjusted the scales. The souls only gazed upon the two with a detached curiosity. </p><p>"I need to see my father."</p><p>"Many of these people do. They've lived, suffered, through pain and pleasure. Those who make it to the palace have passed the first trials." The scale tilted, tilted, settling on an equilibrium. Anubis waved his hand, and the soul stepped forward, disappearing into the wall. The next soul moved up to be judged. "What makes you think you can just cut through?"</p><p>"Ra told me to--"</p><p>"If you can wait out the entire journey on her ship, then you can wait longer."</p><p>"It concerns your--father," Horus blurted out, and Anubis glanced at him, expression hidden in shadow. Judging by how his shoulders tensed, his cousin must have been surprised. "I need to speak to Osiris about it."</p><p>Anubis stared at him, wordless.</p><p>"Cousin--"</p><p>The scales tipped, and tipped, and the plate with the heart sunk, almost brushing the ground. A shadow separated from the wall, blurring into the shape of a crocodile-hippopotamus-lion hybrid. Before Horus had time to reach, Ammit's jaw was unhinging, all too similar to Apep's, and crushed the soul between her teeth. Red, dark blood dripped down her jaw, even as she retreated back into the gloom. Anubis watched it all without emotion.</p><p>"I have to," Horus pleaded softly, his hear thudding hard from what had just happened. "I know. I <em>know.</em> But this is for the good of Egypt."</p><p>Anubis' grip tightened on the spear, and for a second Horus thought the older god meant to kill, or at least maim.</p><p>His cousin turned and stretched out a hand. A small doorway appeared on the far wall, the colour black as fertile soil with a single splash of white. There was no knob.</p><p>"The lord of the dead awaits you," Anubis paused, and for the first time his voice showed something more than stoicism. Horus couldn't pinpoint what emotion it was. "King of the sky. Enter." His cousin looked almost small as Horus approached the door, already calibrating the scales to the next silhouette. </p><p>Horus took a breath, and pushed open the door.</p><p>It was a smaller room than the room of scales, although he instantly felt the difference. The air was warmer--not to any appreciable degree--and bas reliefs marked the walls around, intricate and precise. A shrine was placed at the opposite end, surrounded by large, white lotus flowers that seem to sway despite a lack of breeze. And enthroned in the shrine itself--</p><p>Horus dropped to one knee, wincing at the impact of hard stone against flesh. <em>Don't feel now.</em></p><p>Curiosity won over courage. He raised his gaze, fighting to keep his own face expressionless.</p><p>Osiris sat there, dressed in white, the skin a dark, muted green. He looked the same as he had at Seth's trial, tall and fearless, his eyes bottomless as he scrutinised his son. Horus matched his stare, feeling nervousness and anger and revulsion stir deep within his stomach.</p><p>"Son." The word felt odd; unused. Like it didn't quite match. "I don't think we've seen each other for some time."</p><p>"My apologies, father. The upper lands needed my attention." It wasn't exactly a lie. Horus studied his father, and wondered how much of himself Osiris saw in <em>him.</em> Maybe there was a kernel of truth to what Seth said about him, then; that they were much more alike than ever expected. Horus had his mother's eye and mouth shape, the rough texture of her hair, but he had his father's angled contours, jaw, the lithe, powerful bulk of body.</p><p>
  <em>Is that why Seth is loathe to talk to me?</em>
</p><p>"I've heard you became pharaoh."</p><p>Horus nodded jerkily. </p><p>"That's quite an accomplishment. And to clarify--" Osiris leant a bit forward, and Horus bit back the feeling of spite-- "right from your uncle's grasp as well. I'm proud of you, Horus."</p><p>
  <em>You're the last person I want to hear that from.</em>
</p><p>Instead, Horus bowed his head, still holding the gaze. "Thank you, father. I did my best to restore what was ours."</p><p>"And you did it very well, too. I wish I had been there for your childhood."</p><p>And maybe that was what sent chills up Horus' spine--that his father genuinely meant it. That he felt some semblance of pride seeing his son with his legacy, like a brand burnt into his skin. Horus hadn't spoke to Sekhmet in ages, but at the moment he could picture her voice in his head, high and low simultaneously with a sharp edge like laughter.</p><p><em>Be glad that Seth wasn't the god of the people,</em> she'd drawl, voice almost soothing. <em>Else Osiris would have slaughtered each and every human just to have him.</em></p><p>It made sense to Horus, in a bizarre, sick way. Being king, Isis, the other gods, all of Egypt--they were nothing to Osiris. He tolerated their presences. He enjoyed their company. There was no reason to hurt them, and every reason to help, and so he did. And to those who stood in his way--</p><p>Horus thought of Nephthys in her room, of Anubis crawling into his, blood seeping from the ruined stump of his arm. He thought of Isis holding him close to his chest as they meandered among the sands, his hands and face caked with filth and dirt. And he thought of Seth, choking him with sand, pleading and enraged and terrified.</p><p>
  <em>Gods, why can't you fucking let me go?</em>
</p><p>An idea slowly crept into Horus' head. Originally he meant to ask for the seed on Ra's authority, but now, kneeling on the ground, he realised that Osiris would never agree. Not when it didn't serve his own obsession. And Ra had little power here in Duat. He couldn't invoke his mother's name either; Osiris might have cared for Isis fractionally more than any other god that wasn't Seth, but it wasn't enough.</p><p><em>Not a</em> <em>lie,</em> he decided on. <em>Maybe just...a half-truth.</em></p><p>"I want to continue the golden age you made for Egypt." Somewhat true. Horus tried not to internally wince. "I am currently serving overseeing the armies as well, but I cannot directly interfere with them. It's not in my domain."</p><p>Osiris waited.</p><p><em>Careful. Be careful.</em> And against all odds, it sounded like his uncle's voice. "I know that in your reign, Uncle Seth served as protector and defender. I know he has murdered you vilely--" <em>y</em><em>ou deserved it --</em>"but he is no longer here. We have been searching for him." False; no one had any desire to go look for him, and Horus remembered his final vow to Seth, one that hung in the air like a sword.</p><p>
  <em>You are safe from me.</em>
</p><p>"He's no longer in Egypt?" <em>Worry</em>--fucking <em>worry</em>--tinged his father's voice, although it was so slight that it was easy to miss. Horus resisted the urge to clench his teeth. <em>If you actually cared about him, then you wouldn't have done what you did.</em> "I haven't heard of this news."</p><p>"Ra hasn't been able to find him." Horus had no idea if it was truth or not; maybe she simply didn't care much either away. That was a likelier answer. "We all wish for him to pay for his crimes, and..." Another half-lie came up. "We hope to use him in battle. And afterwards, although he won't know, the gods will send him to Duat for you to judge."</p><p>His father wasn't stupid by any definition of the word, but Horus <em>saw </em>it. He saw Osiris' dark eyes spark with interest, with longing, and it made him want to vomit. Every person had a gap in their armour; Seth's was his wife and son, and his father's was Seth. </p><p>"He won't fall for such a thing," Osiris said instead, but Horus could tell that he was <em>close.</em> Maybe it was that his father's body language reflected his own, the same mannerisms and gestures, and he recognised them like the back of his hand. "He has no love for Egypt. He--"</p><p>"Maybe if it's something he wanted," Horus said innocently, even as self-hatred pinched his insides. "He killed you out of petty jealousy, I'm sure. You must have had something you rightfully owned that he craved." The words burned like acid in his mouth.</p><p>Osiris stared long and hard at him, but Horus could feel his mind shifting. Caution, suspicion--slowly consumed by personal desire. Desire was always the fall of a kingdom. </p><p>"But of course, my son." His father stood, white robes rustling, and held out a hand. Out of thin air he drew a tiny black box, and Horus didn't have to be a prophet to guess what was inside. At least Osiris didn't know he knew. "For the good of Egypt." The box floated over, resting in Horus' own palm.</p><p>"On one condition."</p><p>Horus raised his eyes. "Yes, father?"</p><p>"You will not open the container. I will know about it. You will not give this to anyone. And you will return it to me as soon as possible."</p><p>Horus stood and bowed deeply, and lied through his teeth.</p><p>"Absolutely. My lord."</p><p>.</p><p>.</p><p>.</p><p>It was only dusk when he returned to the palace.</p><p>Ra was right; he hadn't been there for a good deal of time. A fine layer of dust coated over his room; when he glanced along the corridor, the door to Nephthys' room was wide open, the interior empty. She must have departed some time ago.</p><p>He walked and sat down on his bed. His temple, Ra, the barque and Apep and the endless lines of the dead...his father. His uncle. All the thoughts warred in a jumbled mess, painful and raw and sharp, and he stared at the box in his hands. He was tired; exhausted, an ache deep and permeating in his bones. Tomorrow he would sort out his thoughts. Tomorrow he'd search for his uncle. He slumped onto the bed, not bothering to pull off his headdress.</p><p>Horus sank into a dream. It started off innocuous, him enjoying a sweet fig by the river, but the stress of the day morphed into hunger, guilt, shame and horror. Disgust, even as the dream shifted to his bedroom, the very same one he rested in, the one where he had forced Seth down on the ground and <em>taken</em> him--</p><p>--but here, in his mental sanctuary, it was sick and slow and sensual. He was atop of his uncle, pinning his wrists to the ground, and their mouths met and gasped into each other, the slide of tongues slick and sending sparks down to his toes. Each moan jolted something deep inside, and he kissed Seth harder, trying to consume more. Their hips thrusted against each other, and he could feel his uncle's interest sliding against his thigh--<em>he was crying, begging, he was trying to kick you off--</em>and he reached down, putting his hand up Seth's shendyt, feeling his uncle's cock stiffen in his hand. It was already leaking, come dripping through his fingers, and he let his fingers slide lower to cup the base and balls.</p><p>Seth cried out at that, a guttural moan that Horus swallowed desperately with his mouth. Their kisses were sloppy now, driven more by a primal need than accuracy, and the smell of sand and fragrant oil overlapped with his uncle's natural smell--a smell of salt, iron. A weapon. He kissed behind Seth's ear, breathing deeply, the smell coiling low in his gut. He withdrew his hand, smearing it over his uncle's chest. There was something unspeakably filthy in that gesture, and it only made him rub against Seth harder, letting warmth flood into his body. Seth reached up with his freed hand, pulling Horus' headdress off effortlessly and grasping the short strands of his hair. He tugged him down harshly, the hand moving to the base of his skull, and Horus mouthed at Seth's jaw, his throat, sucking deep purple bruises into his uncle's pale skin before soothing it with his tongue. Seth trembled under his touch, his hand moving over the muscles of Horus' shoulders and back.</p><p>"Fuck me," his uncle whispered, voice hoarse. "Please."</p><p>He would never beg in real life. <em>He would never have you--</em>Horus' hands shook as he lifted them from Seth's skin, reaching downwards to strip off his own skirt. <em>A dream. </em>Seth's head was bare, all scarlet tresses that shone like blood, but his face was shadowed. <em>His real expression was in pain. In fear.</em> Horus slid down Seth's shendyt as well, the smell of skin and sweat filling his lungs like perfume, until both of them were bare.</p><p>A jar of oil conveniently appeared near his wrist. Horus reached in and slicked up two of his fingers, and his uncle watched him, propped on his elbows. The hunger spiked, blazed, and Horus found himself bending down to kiss Seth's stomach, his hips, his lips slidng over the warm length of his cock. It tasted bitter, but he sucked and swallowed until the cock prodded the opening of his throat. Seth moaned loudly at that, fingers slipping through his hair again. </p><p>
  <em>He was crying.</em>
</p><p>He pushed one finger in, then the next, answering with a low groan at the feeling of warm tightness enveloping his skin. Seth's hips jerked violently as Horus lifted his mouth off, and the bitter taste of come on his tongue made him coat the rest of the oil on his own cock, the sudden desperate <em>need</em> to take him, own him, and when he pushed in like an animal, only caring about the heat and arousal and the ragged, sharp sounds of Seth's breathing--</p><p><em>He fears</em> <em>you.</em></p><p>It felt like a living dream and nightmare--Seth grasped his shoulders as Horus pushed his uncle's legs back, widening them, letting him thrust his cock in deeper. The heat flooded straight to his mind, charging his veins like lightning, tugging long and loose on the invisible cord in his groin. Each gasp made him moan back, his voice almost unrecognisable, and only desire guided him. Desire of lust, thrill, of a love so twisted and sick and <em>wrong, wrong, wrong--</em></p><p>He came with a muffled gasp, biting down on lip hard enough to draw blood. They did another round, with Seth this time coming all over their chests, and then Horus pulled out and flipped Seth on his stomach and pushed back in, the heat and warmth melting every bone in his body. The third orgasm was weaker for both, only a dribble of come onto the floor, but he kissed up his uncle's neck and bit into it and his fingers dug bruises into pale alabaster skin, like he was trying to scar. A mess of semen and sweat coated his thighs as he drew out, Seth hissing slightly in discomfort. </p><p>
  <em>You're like your father.</em>
</p><p>Horus drew Seth close, letting the dream swallow him. Red hair, soft touches, a warm mouth opening under his--</p><p>
  <em>Please--let me go.</em>
</p><p>It was the middle of the night when he finally emerged from the dream, still holding onto emptiness. His cock was soft, thankfully. He stared at the crumpled sheets in his hands and felt sickened all over again.</p><p><em>You violated him. </em> <em>You took away his will.</em></p><p><em>I never meant to,</em> he had cried out to Sekhmet, his voice cracking in raw despair. <em>I would never do something so vile.</em></p><p>
  <em>I'm not my father.</em>
</p><p>But he had. He had, and--and--there was nothing he could do to reverse it, to turn back time. He could only--</p><p>He thought of his father's eyes, cold and empty as the deepest pits of Duat.</p><p><em>Then live with it, </em>a voice whispered, the same voice that had guided him to the path of his uncle. <em>You will never make up for what you've committed. You can only atone.</em></p><p>There was nothing on earth he could do to apologise, or solve. He could only let Seth decide. It was the least he could do.</p><p>His hands closed over the box as he sat up in the bed, letting his mind relax. Call out for Seth. <em>I have something.</em> The sands were distant and far, wide and boundless, and the sun and moon had no limit. <em>It is the only thing I have to offer.</em></p><p>"<em>Finally</em> you call out. How nice of you."</p><p>Horus almost toppled out of the bed. <em>Almost,</em> because he had trained under his own time, and yet the sight of Seth sitting <em>right next to him</em> in the bed's empty space felt like a spear through the gut. He caught himself at the last second, tangling his fingers in the sheets, even as the box tumbled onto the blankets.</p><p>
  <em>"Uncle?!"</em>
</p><p>And it was the second detail that utterly took Horus' breath away. Red hair spilled over Seth's shoulders and back, as alluring as the day Horus had first seen them. No headdress covered Seth's face. He looked--<em>young,</em> and yet ageless, an indescribable exhaustion rimming his eyes, and he was so beautiful that it hurt Horus' heart to see.</p><p>"<em>How</em>--how long have you been here?"</p><p>"An hour or so. You must have had some interesting dreams." Horus felt himself flush down all the way to his neck. "I was more curious on..." Seth tilted his head, his hair shifting over his upper arm. "...why you have the container. I know you know what's inside."</p><p>There was a wariness in his frame, but it must have some minor miracle that his uncle hadn't straight-up attacked him or fled. Or maybe Horus was still too drowsy to pose much of a threat. He wondered if Seth had simply sat there, watching him sleep, and a nervous flutter tinged his stomach.</p><p>"My father gave it to me," he said, opting for honesty. Seth's expression tightened, and he continued hurriedly, "He didn't know that I know."</p><p>"I'd rather you give me the why."</p><p>"Ra showed me Apep." The words rushed out breathlessly. "She wanted you to come back. She knew that only one thing could keep you here."</p><p>"What, my wondrous ability of having a child?"</p><p>"Of a family." Horus glanced down at his knees, flustered and embarrassed. "Of having someone that...cared for you." He felt like he was one inch tall, and he wished he could burrow back underneath the blankets once more. Seth's stare made a tremor shudder down to his toes. </p><p>"What are you planning to do with it? Keep me here?" Seth's voice was a shadow of a snarl.</p><p>Horus couldn't help himself at the thought, then; the thought of keeping his uncle here in Helioplis, away from the other gods, away from his father. <em>I would protect you. I would take care of you.</em> This must have been how his father's thoughts grew; first a comfortable affection, then protectiveness, possessiveness, transforming into the insidious, toxic obsession that swept like poison. Seth was a god of chaos, a god of the expanse and the wild. He never wanted to be chained down.</p><p>"Only someone of my father's blood can give this box willingly," he said instead, clasping his fingers around the container. That was why Seth hadn't just snatched it up and fled. "He said not to open it, or to give it away."</p><p>Seth's features might have been set in stone. "So what, you're going to hold it over my--"</p><p>Horus took his uncle's palm. Calloused, yet soft, dry like the sand. He swallowed slightly, and pressed the container into Seth's hand. Their fingers slipped together, and Horus wanted nothing more than to bring that hand to his face, see how it would feel along his jaw.</p><p>He pulled away; the box glowed dimly, a dark auric light suffusing over the bed. Seth seemed to have trouble deciding on what expression to settle on--surprise, indignation, relief--and eventually morphed into confusion.</p><p>"You're giving it to me."</p><p>"I can't make you mortal," Horus said, recalling a distant conversation among dates and sandstone. "Not while I still am. Your seed can't exactly, either, but it'll be the closest thing. If you ever--" <em>wished to die,</em> but the mere thought made his throat close over --"wanted to go to Duat, then you would be a mortal. You'd have to get through all these spirits, all these trials, but--" He clenched at the blankets, wishing he could put his hands someplace less obvious. "My father can't harm you."</p><p>Seth raised his eyes, challenging his gaze. "And what if I don't?"</p><p>"Then it's still yours. It always was." If his uncle was nice enough, he would simply leave like before, and this time it would be permanent. The hollowness inside Horus' stomach grew larger. "No one will ever control you again. You can go anywhere you want, for as long as you desire." He licked his lips. "Ra might be furious at me, but I...I will become a god, and take your stead upon the barque."</p><p>A silence fell, slow and stretched, and Horus didn't dare to look at Seth. He waited for some angry shout, or a weapon's edge flickering in his periphery, or the soft rasp of sand. All he wanted to do was go back to sleep-back to the dream, the dream where Seth stayed besides him and cared for him. Maybe, when he woke up, it would blunt the pain a little.</p><p>A hand touched his shoulder.</p><p>This time Horus didn't jump, although every muscle in his torso froze. He braced for fingers to wrap around his neck, or snap his clavicle, but instead Seth reached up and lightly tugged at one end of the headdress.</p><p>"Take it off."</p><p>"Uncle...?"</p><p>"I've never seen you without it." It was a rare touch, one not borne of threat or reflex, and it made Horus feel boneless. His uncle looked at him with what appeared to be growing doubt. "Just take it off."</p><p>Horus hesitated--even in sleep or ablutions he rarely took it off fully. It had been something simple to shade himself from the sun, and now it felt like a part of him, ingrained into his skin. </p><p>But it was <em>Seth</em> asking. </p><p>He reached up, pulling it off. Cool air grazed his scalp, and the shapes in the room grew a bit clearer. He dissolved the headdress into air, letting it flow back into his body, before facing his uncle. Seth stared at him with an unreadable expression.</p><p><em>Well?</em> He almost wanted to say, but he bit his tongue. Restlessness itched in his stomach. Almost a minute passed, and Horus curled his fingers, ready to conjure his headdress again--</p><p>A finger caught his chin. Horus felt his breath hitch as Seth turned his head, until their faces were inches from each other. Prickles erupted over his bare arms and legs. Red eyes roved over his face, drinking up each detail, and there was no force in Egypt that could stop the burning blush from creeping up Horus' face.</p><p>"Hm." Seth released his grip; the place where his fingers had touched felt oddly tender. "You don't--look like what I was expecting."</p><p>Somehow, Horus found his voice. "What would that be?"</p><p>"I dunno. Maybe a clone of your father, or a male version of your mother. Maybe both." Seth shrugged languidly, although his eyes never left Horus' face. "You wear your hair a little like his, although his was shorter. You've got your mother's expressions."</p><p>"I...I see."</p><p>"It's your <em>eyes.</em> Your eyes are--" Seth broke off, his expression pinched. "I don't think I've seen them so--<em>clear.</em> They're the pure colour of the sky."</p><p>A strange wave of bafflement and warmth uncurled in Horus. Maybe it wasn't exactly a compliment, but it was as close to one as his uncle would probably ever admit.</p><p>"I've got a question for you." Seth's voice broke through his thoughts like a ram. His uncle was lying on the bed now on his side, an elbow propping up his head. Horus' fingers burned with the urge to touch his hair. "It's not some temporary thing, is it?"</p><p>Horus felt his heart sink like a stone. But there was only truth going forward, and he couldn't bring himself to lie, not when he laid at the centre of his uncle's attention. </p><p>"No," he whispered.</p><p>"How long?"</p><p>Had Seth asked these same questions to Osiris on that night? Yet, strangely, there was no trace of apprehension in his frame, and Horus found himself saying, "I was a child, then. I didn't understand what happened around me. But I..." he inhaled a breath, willing to calm his heartbeat. "We were at Ombos, once. My mother and I. I snuck away to one of your temples."</p><p>"Huh. Ombos. It's been quite a while."</p><p>"I went in," Horus continued, "and I...I felt you. My mother always said you were a monster, a murderer, but at the temple I felt your--" He thought of wandering along the empty columns and pylos, the small figurine he had left. "I felt your despair. I didn't know someone could feel like that."</p><p>"That's all?"</p><p>"I was fascinated by you." The words felt like glass in his mouth, but he kept going. "How someone of so much pain inflicted it upon others. And I...I had seen you before as well. It was the first time I had ever seen another god. You were a ghost to me." His mouth couldn't stop. "Even when you were out of my sight, you were always among us. Looming over us. And I couldn't tear myself away."</p><p>Seth absorbed his words in silence. Horus felt each syllable ring the air, taut and sharp as a whip, and he could only wait. Wait for his uncle to mock him, to belittle him, to flinch and attack him once more. And it would never snuff out what he felt--something deep, something so all-encompassing and fulfilling that it felt like the first rays of sun breaking through a storm cloud. A warmth, radiance, that spread to every inch of his body. </p><p>Acceptance. He had always accepted it; that his uncle would never love him, never even <em>like</em> him. Maybe that was what it was. Osiris couldn't accept it, the notion that love was never entitled or owed, but Horus could let it rest. He would live the rest of his life with the imbalance, and he would rather have it than let it be destroyed. </p><p>He wasn't going to Seth again. The thought would bring him pain, but he could live with it. For the sake of Egypt, and for himself, he would have to.</p><p>"You don't have to stay, uncle," he said, as gently as he could. "I told you: no one will ever control you again. I made the vow of sanctuary to you." <em>But what use is a sanctuary, if one never goes to it?</em> "You're free."</p><p>Seth looked at the container, then at him, brows furrowing.</p><p>"Do you know what you've done?"</p><p>Horus shook his head in confusion.</p><p>Seth plowed on --"You've willingly given me this container. By the time the sun rises, all of Duat will know that you broke your father's promise. You made yourself his enemy."</p><p>"Uncle--"</p><p>"And not only that, you would set off Ra and every single god in Heliopolis as well. You'd face the risk of being eaten by Apep. The people will loathe you for not dragging me off in chains. Nephthys--" here he faltered, pain crossing his face, "has left, and Anubis bears little sympathy towards me. No one will understand your reasoning."</p><p>"I am aware."</p><p>"You know what Osiris will do." It wasn't a question.</p><p>Horus reached out slowly, as if in a fugue, giving his uncle ample time to draw away. When he didn't, Horus lightly grasped a few strands of the red, red hair, feeling its texture fully. It felt like gossamer on his fingertips. He fully committed the touch to his memory, preserving it, cherishing it, holding it close to his heart. </p><p>"And all for me." Another non-question. "For someone who has tried to kill you, beaten you..." A moment of hesitation. "<em>Hurt </em>you, like the way your father hurt me. Someone who has terrorised your childhood."</p><p>"I don't know what to make of it either," Horus heard himself saying, as if it was natural as breathing. "It never was rational." </p><p>
  <em>Love never is.</em>
</p><p>Seth shifted away, and Horus let his hand drop. The sun was still far off, but the first stir of heat had already began seeping through the open window. He laid back down on the bed, keeping his eyes on the canopy above. Maybe if he focused hard enough, he wouldn't hear his uncle leave.</p><p>So it was a massive shock when he felt the bed move, slightly, as Seth settled next to him, hands under his head. There was still a respectable space between him, but Horus couldn't help and turn in surprise. Seth faced him, contemplative.</p><p>"Uncle?"</p><p>"You're bizarre. You know that, right?"</p><p>Horus found his words. "You--you can leave, if you wish to."</p><p>"Well, I don't. I'll make a decision." Without the headdress, Horus felt vulnerable, all of his emotions visible at once. </p><p>"I swore to you--"</p><p>"Yeah, I <em>know</em> that. I was there." Seth studied him like he was an open scroll. "You keep surprising me, birdbrain. Everytime I think you're going to do one thing--" he gestured vaguely. "You do another. You do the fucking opposite."</p><p>"I don't mean to surprise."</p><p>"And maybe that's what I'm confused on." Seth absentmindedly touched Horus' face briefly, and Horus shivered. "You actually <em>care</em> for me, knowing fully what I am. You showed me kindness when I never deserved it. You'd rather give up every drop of power and happiness you have just to secure some small measure of it for me. And you want nothing in return."</p><p>"It's all I can do," Horus croaked, his voice soft.</p><p>"Well. I'd be a fool not to take advantage of it."</p><p>Before Horus could react, Seth had shifted closer, and now a pale hand quickly touched his hair before brushing down to his arm. A hand clasped over his, warm and steady as a rock, and Horus felt like his heart skipped several beats.</p><p>"You let me go." Seth's voice was quiet too, almost a murmur. "You let me go, when your father didn't. When the rest of Egypt didn't. And maybe that's why--" he sighed out, a soft exhalation of air, and Horus could only focus on the seeping warmth from one hand to another. "That's why I stayed."</p><p>They laid there, wordless, soundless, save for their breathing. The sun rose, and rose, Ra upon her barque, Apep among the waters, Isis among the Nile and Osiris down in the depths of the dead. The gods among their places; the people among their homes.</p><p>Horus slept then, his rest dreamless. He didn't know if the hand would be there when he woke, or if he could ever hold it again, but he let his sleep carry him far away. Even if it wasn't there--even if it was--the day would move on, and Egypt would breathe, and he would know that he had tried.</p><p>And for him, that was enough.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>References:</p><p>Heru is one of the alternate names for Horus, as Sutekh is for Seth/Set. ꜣsjr is an alternative name for Osiris, and I "think" sen roughly translates to "brother."<br/>Ombos was one of the primary cities for the cult of Set. Abydos was one for Osiris.<br/>Shendyts are skirts that Egyptian men wore (and the skirts the male characters wear). Kalasiris are dresses that Egyptian women wore (and the sheath dress Isis wears).<br/>Faience is a glazed ceramic glass ware that the Egyptians invented.<br/>Nomes are pretty much the Egyptian equivalent of districts/precincts.<br/>The red snake is from myth, where Set sends one to kill a baby Horus. Doesn't specify what type of snake, so I decided to choose the carpet viper (red, poisonous, found in sandy parts of Egypt).<br/>Apep (Apophis in Greek) is a big fucking snake that Ra battles on a daily basis, usually with Set as his/her main guard. Khnum is a minor Nile god. Ammit is a beast in Duat that consumes unworthy souls.</p><p>Headcanons: everything about the seed of Seth, limits on divine interference, gods-mortals relationship, etc.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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